


San Francisco

by iwritewhenimhappy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate universe - Vietnam War, Angst, F/F, F/M, Flower Power Movement, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hippies, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing a Room, Underage Drinking, Vietnam War, letter writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritewhenimhappy/pseuds/iwritewhenimhappy
Summary: It's 1969 and the 'Nam War is still in full swing when Billy finds himself on temporary leave. He can't go home so he decides to go to the next best place and that's to his sister's, Maxine's. She's going to college, living in a dorm and everything, and that's where Billy meets a flower by the name of Steve Harrington.





	1. Part I: Home - Where The Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this work before but decided not to finish it and I've finished it. I really have a soft spot for this fic so i tried to give it the best ending I could, but it was a while since I wrote the first two parts that I wrote the third so... Hope you enjoy regardless. :)

“Look we don’t need your kind around here, your presence isn’t going to scare us ‘patriotic.’ We’re plenty patriotic but besides that it’s not going to work so when you’re reporting back to Professor Campbell you can tell him that.” The brunette haired young man says with an exasperated air about him.

 Billy’s lip pulls up into an amused grin. “Sure, pretty boy. Now if only I knew what the hell you are talking about.”

 The brunette looks back slightly confused but with a scathing retort already out of his lips, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, asshole. You and the rest of your corps trying to guilt us or most of the time intimidate us into quitting our protests but I’ll have you know that there is a thing called freedom of speech, AKA the first amendment. If you can wrap your meat head around that concept that is.”

“Still have no idea what you’re talking about, man, but if you would tone down the zappy attitude…”

“I don’t have time for this, just go back to the man and leave us alone.”

 Billy’s about to open his mouth and tell this guy where he can stick it but then a fiery ball of energy is running toward him. It’s his younger step sister of course as she barrels into him and pulls him into a tight squeezing hug. It lasts a few moments longer than necessary but Billy doesn’t complain, instead he gets the satisfaction of seeing the brunette’s confused and surprised face.

“You’re back!” Maxine says excitedly as she pulls away to smile. Billy can’t help but let a small smile of his own appear. She’s happier than when he last saw her, and so much older, like an actual woman or something.

“You know this doofus, Max?” The brunette asks not being able to hold in the question so obviously on the tip of his tongue since Max came near their makeshift stall for their base of protest operations.

“Yeah, it’s Billy, my brother.” Max says back to the guy. “Come on, Steve, I told you he was on leave.”

 It all dawns on the man, Steve, as Billy has come to find out his name is as his brown eyes widen in understanding and a red tinge of blush fills his cheeks, no doubt embarrassed about the third degree he was giving to Billy about what the fuck he was talking about. Billy is so obviously not involved having only just touched down a few hours ago. He’s supposed to go home first, to Neil and Susan, but fuck that, and besides Max can sweet talk them into not being too angry if they find out. It’s only when he’s back for good that he’ll really feel it, but he’s not going back to that house, not ever again, not- fuck, not, not…

“Hey, you alright, Billy?” Max asks. She doesn’t place her hand on his arm as most people would have done, but Max doesn’t because she knows he doesn’t like it.

“Yeah.” Billy tells her with an attempt at a smile, then to change the subject adds, “Let’s go grab some grub.”

…

“I don’t get why you had to bring the flower along.” Billy says to Max as though Steve isn’t in the opposite booth of them able to hear every word one of them says.

“Just because I do protests… It doesn’t make me a flower. I’m still a man.” Steve protests with a slight glare. It makes Billy rolls his eyes and Max suppress a smirk. “Besides at least I’m not a meathead.”

 Instead of getting all angry and defensive as most of the ‘nam guys Steve’s met usually do, Billy only rolls his eyes. It’s sort of endearing in a way although Steve doesn’t use those words exactly to describe how it makes him feel. Luckily he doesn’t have to linger on the thought nor does Max have to play meditator as the waitress comes over to take their order. Billy barely glances at her before giving his order of eggs, toast, and bacon, but the others are quick to dive into conversation as it becomes apparent that they know each other.

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She says to Billy as she finishes penciling off the order. Her attention then focuses on Steve and Max as she gives them both a warm smile. “How are the protests going, Steve?”

“Great,” Steve replies, “Mrs. Buyers.”

 Mrs. Buyers. Wow, he’s not just a flower, he’s also a square, Billy thinks as they lapse into pleasantries. It’s not long though before Max gets in the conversation and Billy can’t help but feel like the fourth wheel, if that’s even a thing, but good old Max reels him in eventually. He finds himself one part grateful and another part annoyed as she introduces him as, “Billy, my brother.” The ‘step’ is unsaid, hasn’t needed to be said in a long time. Their parents got married when Max was pretty young, still in middle school and now that she’s all grown up in college Neil is ‘dad’ and Billy is her ‘brother.’ Billy doesn’t mind the brother part anymore, but the dad part he could live without. They both could live without it, and for the better.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Joyce.” The waitress, Joyce says. “I’m the mother of their friends. We all know each other pretty well.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally found some people who haven’t realized you’re a freak.” Billy says it almost harshly to Max but he has that signature smirk, and he and Max have always teased each other this way.

“Shut up, jerk.” Max says as she elbows him slightly, easing the tension on both Joyce and Steve’s faces as they hadn’t realized until that moment that Billy was joking.

“Well, what can I get you two? Steve, the usual I’m sure, but Max…?” Joyce cuts in getting back to why they’re here.

“I think I will try the pepper chicken and noodles.” Max tells her after briefly looking back at her menu to make sure she got it right.

“Ooh, Bob will love the challenge.” Joyce says with a smile as she grabs their menus and takes off back to the kitchen.

“So, who are these friends of yours?” Billy asks once Joyce is gone.

 Max takes a quick sip of the water their hostess brought earlier and says, “Well, Joyce has three kids, Jonathan, Will, and Jane. She and Hopper adopted Jane a few years ago. We’re pretty close but so are the boys with us too. Not so much Jonathan though, he’s about Steve’s age. Ancient.”

“Hey!” Steve calls incredulously, but Max only laughs causing Steve to smile as she’s only teasing him.

“So who are the other ‘boys’ then?” Billy asks with a slightly authoritative and protective tone.

 Max rolls her eyes. “There’s Dustin who wants to be a mad scientist, Mike who is kind of dating Jane, Will is Jonathan’s younger brother, both Joyce’s kids, and Lucas.”

 She blushes slightly at the last name and Billy smirks. “Lucas, huh?”

 Before he can go into full on teasing mode Steve cuts in. “And Nancy. She’s dating Jonathan but she’s Mike’s older sister.”

 There’s a sort of awkward pause after Steve’s words and it doesn’t take a genius to know that there’s some kind of history between Steve and Nancy. Billy doesn’t press on it because for one, he doesn’t give a shit about Nancy or this Steve, and two, Joyce is back with their food. It’s quick and Billy has the slight inclination that maybe some of this food isn’t as freshly cooked as the diner’s sign says but after months with no coffee, let alone eggs and bacon, he’s not complaining.

“Enjoy.”

…

“I don’t understand why I can’t stay with you?” Billy asks in exasperation once he has fully comprehended the situation.

“Hey!” Steve yells out in-between him and Max in indignation. “You’re not doing me any favours. I offered because I’m a friend, and that was before I met you besides.”

 Billy slightly steps forward in a confrontational manner as his mouth opens to say something that will no doubt match his body language, but before he can Max is rolling her eyes and saying, “Billy, I live in the women’s dorm. No guys allowed. Besides I have a roommate. I mean- I guess I could ask Lucas and Dustin if they wouldn’t mind-”

 Before she can continue Billy is rejecting the offer before it’s completely out of her mouth, “No, no fucking way. They sound worse than this fruitcake.”

 Steve’s eyes narrow and Max’s head shakes back and forth. “Why- You could always go back home if you don’t like it.”

 That gets Billy’s attention as his back instantly straightens, his shoulders become square, and his mouth shuts in a grim expression. Max doesn’t even seem to notice the change, but Steve does. It’s the posture- the look of a soldier, he’s seen enough of them to know that much, but it’s almost like Billy has been doing it a lot longer than he should have. His fingers don’t even fidget a muscle or move an inch. It’s bizarre as he becomes a complete statue. A soldier. Or as Steve likes to call it, someone who doesn’t talk back; a mindless drone, but that’s not quite right either as there’s something in those eyes…

“Fine.” Billy says gruffly as Max smiles in victory. “I’ll stay with the flower.”

Steve’s quick to reply, “Not a flower.”

…

“So how exactly is it that you can afford a room all by yourself?” Billy asks as he walks around the dorm room looking at the various posters and knickknacks scattered everywhere.

“My dad’s a banker.” Steve says in way of explanation. “And my mom’s an accountant.”

“Both your parents work?” Billy looks over to Steve with a raise of his eyebrow in surprise. Sure, lots of women work these days but the older folks, parents and the lot usually the women don’t, or gave it up when they had kids.

“Yeah, my mom took time off when I was born but went back when I started school. It’s just me.” Steve replies in explanation but it’s not really one and Billy’s head tilts at his words in a way of asking more. “She’s hard working. Anyway, we’ll have to share.”

 Billy laughs but there’s a note of rejection to the idea in the sound. “Sure.”

Steve sighs. “I’m not actually a fruitcake.”

“Never said that you were.” Billy tells him automatically as his eyes meet him in a brutal gaze, daring him to challenge it.

“Right. Well, I used to have a roommate, but when he left I got a new bed.”

“Jonathan?”

 Steve’s eyes sharply turn onto Billy’s. “What has Max told you exactly?”

“Nothing.” Steve doesn’t look convinced as Billy smirks. “I guessed, flower, you talked about a Jonathan and Nancy. It wasn’t a hard leap. ‘Sides from the look of your music taste I’m guessing you don’t have many friends.”

 Steve’s eyes turn slightly sad at Billy’s words and Billy can’t help but feel a pang of regret in his quick words, but he’s Billy Hargrove, he doesn’t do regret. Instead he switches to a different topic, a safer one. “Does Maxine really have all those friends?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiles. “We’re all good friends, mostly.”

“Good. That’s good.”

…

“Do you have anything in that duffle besides uniforms?” Steve asks casually but with a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“No.” Is Billy’s swift and non-encouraging reply.

“You’re on leave though, right? So don’t you need regular clothes or something?”

 Billy’s oddly quiet for a few minutes before saying, “We’re expected- it’s expected that we go home.”

 That statement stands in the room for a long moment as Steve stares at the back of Billy’s skull as he rummages in his bag for some kind of clothes to sleep in. Maybe just a clean pair of underwear and that’s all. Maybe that’s all soldiers really sleep in, after all they’re practically in the Congo. It’s probably as hot as hell there. Here in Indiana the weather is pretty mild, especially in May when summer is around the corner. Billy must have noticed that by now, but he doesn’t have any clothes except his uniform.

“You can borrow some of my clothes.” Steve tells Billy abruptly making Billy stop what he’s doing and look up sharply.

“Don’t be doing me any favours, Harrington.”

“I’m not. I can’t be seen walking around with a soldier. It’ll ruin my reputation.” As hard as he can Steve supresses the teasing smile wanting to come out. He is slightly joking about the reputation part but the offer was a serious one and he’s pretty sure that Billy has a big ego and even bigger pride. But that’s just him taking a wild guess of course.

“Fine.” Billy says it stiffly but Steve’s smile in response is victorious.

 His heart beat picks up slightly then turns back to normal as he opens a drawer and rummages for an extra pair of whatever Billy needs.

…

 “How’d you sleep?” Max asks over waffles the next morning in the college cafeteria. She sits across from Billy who moves his eyes off of Steve who is gesturing empathetically to some blonde to add more syrup, God only knows what he’s saying about it, to Max.

“Fine.” Billy tells her with a huff as his thoughts linger to last night and the uncomfortable yet strangely peaceful night lying next to Steve. The cool sheets quickly turning warm as both of their combined body heat filled those almost non-existent spaces. The only sounds being that of a laugh here and there from drunken students coming back in late. Occasionally there would be a slam of the door making Billy jump, (awake and up for an hour if he was sleeping), but other than that listening to Steve’s deep even breathes was somehow comforting. Back in ‘nam he bunked with all of the others and hearing them breathe, knowing they all made it another night was a comfort. It settled his bones enough to get a light sleep of an hour or two, sometimes five if he was lucky. With Steve though, he’s pretty sure it was less than that but more peaceful than back there.

“Hey, look who I bumped into.” Steve says with a quick smile as a young coloured guy about Max’s age comes up to them.

“Hi, Lucas.” Max says with a slight tinge to her cheeks that makes Billy smirk. ‘Lucas’.

“So you’re Lucas.” Billy states as he leans back in the usual cockiness that makes Max roll her eyes, but right now she’s more embarrassed than annoyed.

“Billy.” She half whispers in warning, than noticing Lucas’s confused, but slightly cautions look she adds, “This is Lucas. Lucas, my brother Billy. He’s on leave.”

“Oh, right.” Lucas responds, but it’s almost like there’s something else on the tip of his tongue he wants to say but decides against it.

 There’s a slightly awkward silence between the four of them but Steve quickly breaks it by asking, “Where are the others?”

…

“Sorry about Lucas.” Max says sheepishly as they both head out of the college building and toward the bus stop. They’re headed into to town to do some shopping, well, Max is, Billy on the other hand is only going because there’s nothing better to do. That and he wants to spend more time with his sister, not that he’ll admit that sappiness to anyone or to himself, in so many words anyway.

“Why are you apologizing?” Billy asks, but it’s more of a statement with a clear meaning of ‘you don’t need to apologize for him.’

“I kind of do. He was glaring at you and it’s not because you’re my brother it’s because you’re enlisted.”

“Oh, so all of your friends are flowers, then? Not just the one I shared a room with.”

“What, no, it’s just- well Nancy was so into it and then Jonathan, and Steve got sucked in when Nancy was in it but after they broke up he- Anyway, all I meant was… Well he had a brother too. He was twenty five when he was killed. A bomb, I think, and Lucas kind of hates the whole war now. He’s nothing compared to Erica though.”

“Erica?” Billy raises his eyebrows as they reach the stop and sit on a bench to wait.

“Yeah, his older sister, she’s sort of the real ‘flower’ or ‘freak,’ whatever you want to call them.” Max explains.

“Let me guess, best friends with Steve?” Billy asks with a slight bitter tone as he thinks of her hands all over him. This imaginary attractive coloured girl who probably stole his heart with her resistant protesting.

“What? No. Erica is- well she’s on the fruiter side.” Max’s words become awkward as she clears her throat and tries to change the subject. “So I have to get some clothes and I want to head to the record store for a bit, after we can get lunch?”

“Sure, but you’re paying.” Billy replies making Max smile, but she doesn’t argue as the bus approaches and they hop on. They find a seat as Billy puts the rest of his change in his pocket and thinks about Max’s words. Fruity? Which means Steve is not having her hands all over him. In fact he’s probably not going steady or having and anything with anyone. That Nancy thing seemed to still upset him, but a red blooded American would have found some other girl to fool with. Maybe Steve’s different. Not in the fruity way but, just different. Billy sure feels he’s different when he’s around him, or maybe that’s him that feels different?

 Fuck this, he needs to focus on what Maxine is saying, not on the flower.

…

“What the fuck!” Steve yells out in surprise and slight concern as he walks into his room to find Billy shirtless. It’s not that part that really shocks him though, it’s the long bandage wrapped around his side, stained slightly red but not overly so. There’s another similar, but smaller one on his other shoulder although clearly less bloody. Along with that are a few almost faded bruises and scrapes that are slightly scabbed over. All in all it’s pretty clear what had happened, he was injured and that is why he’s here on leave! Max said he asked for leave and was granted it. Fuck, either she’s lying or he’s lying. He doesn’t act like it though, not even a flush of embarrassment as he turns to face Steve, quickly pulling his (Steve’s) shirt over his head and on. He doesn’t even wince in discomfort.

“You’re the one who gave me the spare key.” Billy tells him nonchalantly. “Maxine spilled her milkshake on me. I had to change.”

 His smile that isn’t really a smile lasts only a few seconds before Steve is at his side and lifting up his shirt. Billy grabs his wrist but Steve already has his shirt up inspecting the damage. “What happened?”

“What do you think?” Billy asks with barely contained sarcasm.

“Does Max know?”

“Kind of.” Is Billy’s guarded but sheepish answer. Billy can’t help but smile and laugh slightly, almost affectionately at his response. It makes Billy crack a smile too, but then it’s gone as they both stop to stare at each other, the close proximity becoming alarming aware. Steve’s hand gripping Billy’s shirt, and Billy’s hand holding onto his firmly. The heat is overwhelming, but nice and a little comforting. Billy sort of wants to stay like this longer without really voicing this he makes it known by not letting go until Steve drops his shirt and pulls his hand away. Only then does Billy loosen is hold and allow the warmth- allow Steve to get away.

“Next time you need it redressed, ask me.” Steve tells him. There’s a slight questioning tone in there but Billy doesn’t bother to answer it, which in itself he supposes is an answer. There’s a pause before Steve asks in a curious, almost childlike tone, “Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” Billy lies.

“Is that why you really have leave?”

“Yes.” Billy’s response is quick and honest, but what he doesn’t say is that if it wasn’t for the cracked rib and brain bleed they would never have granted the leave.

“Isn’t Max waiting for you downstairs?”

…

“Really? A bottle of cheap vodka?” Billy asks with raised eyebrows as he holds the bottle in his hands.

“What? You said you were bored and that you missed it.” Steve says back with a smile and a glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, back in ‘nam we had cheap stuff, sometimes homemade but I’m back on home soil. I’d rather have beer.”

“Steve’s smile grows wider as he pulls out a case of beer from the bag that he said were new clothes.

 Billy can’t help but smile at him in amusement as he reaches across Steve’s bed for one. “You bought the good kind.”

“Of course.” Steve answers like he wouldn’t ever do anything else.

“What no parties going on tonight?” Billy asks it with a raise of his eyebrows before taking a long sip of his beer. He holds it in his mouth for a few moments longer to savour the sweet taste before swallowing it and taking another. It’s Saturday night, and as much as Billy likes the beer wouldn’t it be better to go to a party? Wouldn’t Steve want to? Maybe find some girl to get over this Nancy?

“Not really.” Steve answers with a shake of his head before taking a sip of his own beer to hide the lie. He’s never been that great of a liar and he doesn’t want Billy to question it. It’s nothing really, it’s only that he doesn’t feel like being around a bunch of drunk people. Loud and noisy, and being in his quiet room to drink with Billy sounds better. If Billy wasn’t here he would simply ask someone else to come over, maybe Tommy, so it’s nothing really. He could just tell Billy that, but for some reason he doesn’t. No, there is a reason, he tells himself. It’s easier. It’s simply easier. That’s all.

 Billy senses that maybe somewhere in Steve’s words there’s some dishonestly in there, but he shrugs it off thinking that most likely Steve just isn’t ready to bump into Nancy. Or this Jonathan for that matter. He pushes the thoughts of Steve’s love affair out of his mind though, wanting to enjoy the beer and thinking about Steve and Nancy leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s never been one for messy relationships, never one for relationships at all for that matter. Never saw the point in them. Girls always hang on too tight, looking for a husband, most of them and the others? Well, they’re all about their ‘independence’ and ‘standing their ground.’ In other words, no sex. What’s the point of having a girl if you can’t have fun? For Billy it’s simple, there isn’t a point.

“Does this thing work?” Billy asks Steve as he jumps of the bed and walks over to the record player in the corner of his room. It’s stood an old wooden chair that looks like it’s seen too many days.

“Yeah. Haven’t played it in a while. I’ve been busy with the protests.” Steve explains.

“Right. Well, let’s see if you have any music that isn’t completely awful.”

 Steve rolls his eyes in response.

…

“Not that I don’t like having you here, but it’s been two weeks. Don’t you want to go home and see mom and dad?” Maxine asks one morning at the cafeteria on a Friday, thirty minutes before her first class.

“No.” Is Billy’s quick response, but seeing the confusion on Max’s face he reiterates. “I don’t want them to worry.”

 Max’s eyebrows crunch in confusion. “What do you mean? You’re on a leave to visit your family after a year in half, mom and dad are your family.”

 Billy looks away anxiously as he realizes his mistake, but he doesn’t run away or lie from his problems so his eyes are quickly back on hers. He stares and with a gruff voice explains, “I didn’t request a leave. I had to take one.”

“Why?”

“I was injured in the line of duty, Maxine.”

“What!?”

…

“What exactly are you studying?” Billy asks curiously as he looks up from the solitaire game he’s having on the other side of Steve’s desk. Steve is next to him with a massive textbook open, papers everywhere, and a pen that hasn’t stopped since he started an hour ago. It’s a Tuesday evening, two weeks and a half since he’s been here and usually he would be hanging out with Max but her friend- Jane had some kind of crisis. Something to do with a boy and she said that Billy could come along if he’d like, but teenage girls? Not his strong suit, and defiantly not his problem. So Instead he went back to the room he’s temporally sharing with Steve only to find that he’ll be studying all night long and will be no feasible company until tomorrow.

“It’s economics.” Steve replies without stopping his pen or looking up from his paper.

“That sounds exciting.”

 Steve takes a precious second to look up and glare at Billy’s smirking face, his words previously dripping with sarcasm. His eyes are soon back on the paper though, and his pen is moving once again at full speed but he must be used to multi-tasking because he starts speaking at the same time, saying, “It’s the most boring thing ever.”

“Why take it then?” Billy asks perplexed. He’s never been one for school, almost dropping out numerous times and he would have if not for his father and looming threat of enlistment. In the end though with a certificate in hand he had had to face the threat. He had had to live it and go through with it.

“My dad is paying for my tuition and housing.” Steve explains. “His one condition was that I major in business, so I am, but I’m also minoring in English which is what I actually like.”

 Steve expects Billy to have some sort of sarcastic comment to what has just said. Something about ‘daddy’s boy’ or a ‘suck up’ but he doesn’t say anything like that. Instead he takes what Steve has said seriously. That it’s answer enough that his father said to take business and so that’s what he did. In fact Billy doesn’t comment on it anymore at all, opting instead to go back to his solitaire game and leave Steve to study in peace. After knowing Billy for almost three weeks with the added advantage of sharing a room with him for these past three weeks, it’s odd. Billy always likes to have the last word, but apparently not on this.

…

“Rogers! Rogers!” A gruff voice yelling in his ear, the breath tickling him into awareness as much as the noise is wakes Steve up a few minutes after midnight. Its pitch black out and the sheets are once again aflame in his and Billy’s combined body heat, but there’s also a foot in his side, pushing against him harshly. Billy’s voice is urgent like he needs to be heard but quiet because he also needs to not be heard. It’s an oxymoron and not one Steve wishes to contemplate at this exact moment. Billy’s breathing is harsh and among the urgency in his tone, there is a large amount of fear.

 Steve turns to face Billy and finds his hands clutching at the sheet for dear life. His face is scrunched up in that same fear he’s radiating, and his mouth when not calling for ‘Rogers’ remains tight locked. Steve immediately has the instinct to reach out and half asleep he goes with it, not able to really think about what he’s doing. He reaches out and lightly touches the side of Billy’s head, his fingers landing on the soft short tendrils of hair. There’s a second, a moment where Billy is completely still and Steve thinks maybe he’s okay now. Maybe that’s all he needs to calm down and forget this ‘Rogers,’ but all thoughts of that leave him like a swift blow as he’s turned over and pinned to the bed, a large weight on his back pressing down.

“Billy!” Steve yells in surprise and pain. “Billy! Stop! Stop! It’s me! It’s Steve! Please, you’re- you’re in Indiana, 1969! It’s just me and you! You’re in my dorm!”

 All these words start spilling out of Steve as his rational brain awakens and starts to think, to piece together what’s happening. Billy having a nightmare, someone named ‘Rogers’ and the fact that he’s a soldier all come together. He’s reliving some war experience and now he’s awake and still thinks he’s there in Vietnam. Steve’s heard whispers, people talking about what the war does to men. How it messes with your head. Erica’s girl, Maya had a brother who would relive everything every night. Awful nightmares that made it impossible to do anything the next day. He was on leave after he was shot in the upper thigh but once he got better he was expected to go back. He couldn’t. Instead he hung himself.

“Please! Billy stop! It’s me! It’s Steve!” Steve pleads with him as the hands gripping his wrists press tightly down. The body on top of him crushing his lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. “Pl- please!”

 Then suddenly the weight is gone and Steve can breathe again. He coughs harshly as he turns around to see the shadowy figure of Billy, head lowered and shoulders shaking. It looks almost like he’s crying or just distressed in general. It pains Steve’s heart, but maybe that’s the pain from being crushed moments ago. Either way he reaches his hand out slightly, wanting to go to him, to comfort him and tell him he’s fine. That it’s okay. But he’s still coughing and he doesn’t have the strength to sit up yet, let alone to go over to the man.

“It’s- it’s okay.” Steve says between a cough, trying to comfort Billy but also maybe a little bit trying to comfort himself. Before he can say anymore though Billy is across the room and out the door. He doesn’t even bother to shut it behind him and that adds even more to the concern Steve feels as he watches his movements. He tries to call out weakly to him but it’s no use. He’s already gone.

…

“I don’t know, Max! He just took off!” Steve exclaims into the receiver a couple of hours later. “I can’t find him.”

“Shit. Alright, I’ll call the others. They can help.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve agrees as he rubs his sore, bruising wrists. “I’ll keep looking too.”

 Steve puts the phone back on its hook and heads over to his front door. He grabs a sweater off of his coat rack and opens the door. He doesn’t lock the door behind him in case Billy comes back, he never took his key, and heads down the hall at a quick speed. He takes another look in the common room and bathrooms before heading out of the dormitory building all together. He’s looking around at the darkened sky hoping beyond belief that something will point him in the right direction, but alas nothing, so he heads toward the parking lot. It will be easier to cover more ground with his car, but just as he takes a step forward, a tired and familiar voice speaks from behind him.

“Steve.” He’s quiet which is so unlike Billy that Steve feels a punch to his gut at the tone. He turns quickly to see him, crouched by the building stairs under the buildings one light that’s turned on every night, mostly for drunken students to stumble home without crashing down the stairs, but also for those spending a late night at the library, but mostly the drunken ones. Right now though, a Wednesday night- or well Thursday morning, there’s no one in sight but Billy. His arms are wrapped around himself as he shivers slightly in the cool breeze. He’s not wearing a shirt and it makes Steve’s heart sink because he’s been out here for at least an hour, maybe two without a shirt. It’s still only May after all.

“Billy.” The name comes out of Steve’s mouth in a breath of relief as he crouches down next to Billy, making sure to leave a good distance between them, unsure of how Billy is with contact right now. “You’re freezing.”

 Billy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at Steve and that hurts more than Steve can admit. Without much thought put into it he slips his sweater off and holds it out to Billy. Billy looks up at the material with trepidation before reaching out slowly to take it. He clutches the sweater to him and tries to put it around him, but he’s shaking so badly that he seems to have lost all coordination. Steve watches him struggle only for a few moments before reaching out for it, slowly, very slowly as though he doesn’t want to spook some wild beast. Billy allows it, but his eyes are on Steve’s movements with a heated and slightly fearful gaze. Steve pretends it doesn’t bother him as he slowly takes the sweater and wraps it around Billy. Billy puts his arms through the arm holes and Steve lets go of the sweater, letting it drape around Billy and warm him up, but before his hands can go back to his own sides they’re in Billy’s hands.

“What-” Steve tries to say but is stopped by Billy’s own words.

“I hurt you.” Billy says in that same quiet, lost voice.

 Billy’s holding Steve’s bruised wrists in his hands so lightly that Steve can barely feel it. The cold of his skin on the other hand transfers like fire, and the ice wraps around him until it’s as though he’s taken all of Billy’s chill and made it his own. Billy has stopped shaking but doesn’t seem to have noticed as he continues to inspect the damage he did, not that Steve blames him. It was an accident, and he shouldn’t have grabbed him, besides it will heal soon enough, but Billy’s acting like it’s the worst thing in the world. His eyes are pained and his fingers are dancing across the emerging purple and blue colors across his wrist like they’re the epitome of all the worst things in the world.

“I hurt you.” Billy repeats, his voice cracking with guilt.

“It’s fine.” Steve tells him. “You didn’t mean to.”

 Billy’s hands are still wrapped around his wrists but not for long as he pulls away quickly like he’s been burned. Billy’s arms wrap around himself as Steve takes back his own hands. He’s still chilled though, still harbouring Billy’s coldness, but strangely his wrists are on fire while the rest of him is ice. It must be the pain of injury, or the injury itself that’s causing the heat. What else could it be?

“It’s cold out here. Let’s go back inside.” Steve says to Billy.

 Billy looks at him like he wants to argue but then quickly changes his mind and instead only nods his head in agreement. Steve gets up and Billy follows.

…

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” Steve says in alarm as Billy grabs a blanket off of the bed and starts to make a makeshift sort of bed on the floor beside the bed.

“I’ve slept on worse.” Is his reply, but Steve’s having none of it.

“No, you can sleep on the bed. It was my fault anyway, I reached out to try and calm you-”

“Don’t.” Billy’s face is suddenly inches from Steve’s, his mouth set in a firm line as his eyes blaze with anger. “Don’t ever say that. It was my fault. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight. You can take the bed, flower.”

 The nickname comes out of Billy’s mouth softly, almost like a compliment than its usual sarcastic teasing insult it’s supposed to be. It’s enough for Steve to shut his mouth and not argue back as Billy lays down on the blanket he laid out on the floor and turns away from Steve. Steve watches his back with a burning stare for a few moments longer than necessary before making his way into his bed. Every inch of himself has the urge, the need to go to Billy, to comfort, and maybe check on his injuries. He ran out so fast he could have pulled some stiches, but the bandage were white. No blood. He’s probably fine. He is fine. Unable to sleep, Steve tells himself that over and over for the rest of that endless night, hoping it to be true.

…

 Billy didn’t pull any stiches, but his voice is back to that sarcastic and cocky tone. It’s like last night never happened. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was all a dream, Steve ponders, but then he looks down at his bruised wrists, and feels the pain in his back from being held down and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was no dream. It was all very real, and Billy is doing his best to forget about it. Steve can’t help but oblige, even if a part of him doesn’t want to. Even if a part of him wants to know who ‘Rogers’ is and why Billy was so terrified.

 Maybe one day he will.

…

“Here.” Billy throws Steve’s jacket at him as he lays on the bed, hand holding up his head as holds a book with his other. “We’re going out.”

“We are?” Steve asks looking up, only a tinge of curiosity in his words.

“Yes, because I’m bored, and my leave is almost over.”

 That gets Steve’s attention as he sits up, tossing his book to the side and focusing his whole being on Billy. There’s fear in his eyes and a little hurt, but Billy pretends not to notice it as Steve asks, “I thought you had six weeks?”

“Enlistment is slow. They need all the men they can get. My stiches come out tomorrow, and then I’m off on Monday.”

 Today is Friday. It’s too soon, Steve thinks as he stares at Billy’s tall form, it’s too soon. Billy should have more time to heal. He needs more time here, with Maxine and- and with him. They need more time. Why can’t Uncle Sam find some other way to fight his war than on the backs of young men? Men who sacrifice everything for something that isn’t even existent? Why the violence and despair? Why not make peace? Why not have love? Why war? Why does Billy- Why should he endure? Why should anyone? They need more time.

“Okay.” Steve ends up saying as he looks down than back up at Billy. “Whatever you need.”

 Steve’s words hold a deeper meaning than Billy is willing to decipher, so he only nods and says, “Let’s go then.”

…

“They don’t card here. It’s the only place in town that doesn’t.” Steve tells Billy as they walk into the bar where various young men and women, mostly college students are drinking, talking, and some even dancing.

“Ah.” Is all Billy says as they head to the bar and order a couple of beers.

“I hear that they don’t card anywhere in San Francisco.”

 Billy laughs as they sit down at the only empty table in the joint. “Aren’t all of the people there flowers?”

 Steve smiles. “Yeah, maybe, but still. No carding.”

“An army buddy of mine is from there. You want to know what he told me?”

“What?” Steve asks, slightly more serious as he leans in toward Billy slightly in anticipation.

“He said that you can’t live there unless you leave flowers in your hair 24/7.” Billy says it in all seriousness making Steve raise his eyebrows in disbelief. Billy can’t hold it in anymore and says quickly, “I’m only pulling your skirt, Harrington, relax.”

 Steve huffs and says not very convincingly, “I knew that.”

…

“You should cut your hair.” Billy tells Steve as he leans in close, touching the tips of Steve’s brown tendrils of hair. They’re close enough that Steve can feel every breath of Billy’s on his cheek. He hit the drinks pretty hard and it’s a good thing that Steve stopped after the second one or else they would have to take a taxi and Steve would have to risk leaving his car here over night. He probably would never see it again if he did.

“I’m a flower, remember?” Steve says with a forced smile as his heart speeds up at the close proximity. “We keep our hair long.”

 Billy smiles. “Yeah, pretty as a flower. Pretty boy.”

 His words are slurred but serious and Steve’s had enough. He quickly stands up, making Billy fall over slightly as he was leaning on the other man. He steadies himself pretty fast though as Steve says, “We better go. It’s almost one and you’ve drunk enough for the both of us.”

“Fine. I got to use the head first though.”

“I’ll be outside.” Steve tells him slightly unsure at leaving Billy alone, but despite being quite plastered he seems to have no trouble walking and finding his way. Steve on the other hand feels so out of place, like he’s crawling out of his skin. All he wants to do is get the hell out of here. To get some air and slow his heart so that it doesn’t fall out of his chest. What is wrong with him?

“Hey look! It’s the freak!” A guy yells from Steve’s right as he walks out on the sidewalk. Steve turns toward the voice and finds three students from his school, all Professor Campbell’s meatheads. They walk closer to Steve and Steve has the urge to run in the opposite direction, but he can’t because Billy is drunk out of his mind inside, in a city he doesn’t even know, inside. He can’t leave him and he can’t run away.

“Leave me alone.” Steve says with as much fire as he can muster up before turning from them and reaching for the handle of the door to go back inside the bar. His hand grips the handle and he’s about to turn it but a harsh grip is suddenly on his shoulder, turning him around. He tries to struggle out of the hold but he’s far stronger than Steve, and the other two guys are next to him, boxing him in and leaving no room for escape. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“You should have thought of that before you started your protests. Unpatriotic fuck.”

 Before Steve can respond a fist is flying and blood is pooling.

…

“Fuck! Wake up, Steve!” A voice yells as hands shake him harshly. It makes the pounding in Steve’s head increase, in turn making him groan. “Steve?”

 Steve opens his eyes slowly. “Billy?” He asks as he becomes fully conscious. His head is pounding, his back aches, and his nose, shit. It really hurts. “What happened?”

“Some asshole knocked you on your ass.” Billy tells him, then asks with concern as he holds up four fingers, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four.”

 Billy sighs in relief. “Come on, get up.”

 Billy helps Steve to stand on unsteady feet. It’s only then that Steve notices the unconscious bodies all around them. Various injuries all over their faces, and blood everywhere. Are they even alive?

“They’re alive, if that’s what your wondering. Although they don’t deserve it.” Billy tells him as he kicks the foot of one of the guys.

“You did this?” Steve asks in surprise as he holds a hand to his pounding head. His other hand comes up to his nose and wipes off what he finds to be blood.

“You okay?” Billy asks with concern as his hands come up on either side of Steve’s head, checking one side to the other to make sure there’s no lasting damage.

“I’m fine. Shit, Billy, you’re bleeding!”

 Billy looks down to his side and sees what Steve is talking about. There’s blood starting to emerge, soaking through his shirt. It’s only then that Billy really starts to feel the pain of what he realizes now to be ripped stiches. All the adrenaline from the fight had masked the pain, but now knowing that Steve is alright and the fight over, he can feel the burning, tearing pain on his side.

“Shit.”

“We’re going to the hospital. No arguing.”

“Make it the VA and I won’t.” Billy says as his hand touches his side gently only to make him wince in pain. Then, a bit quieter so that Steve can barely hear it, “It’s all I can afford.”

…

“What the hell happened to you both?” Max asks the next day over breakfast as she takes in the sight of her brother and Steve. Steve’s nose and left side of his face is all blue and purple, and he’s walking with a slight limp. Billy on the other hand has his arm wrapped protectively around his left side and grimaces as he sits down at the table. When his hand comes up to take a piece of bacon Max can see the same color of blue and purple as on Steve’s face all over his hand, except where Steve has no cuts, Billy does. They’re not bad, could be worse but it’s obvious that he’s been punching something. Max’s first thought is that he’s been punching Steve but Billy is left handed so if that were the case Steve’s bruises would be on the right side of his face, not the left.

“We went to Al’s, met some meatheads.” Steve explains for them both. “But we’re fine.”

“Right. Fine.” Max says unbelieving. She would question Billy and Steve further but she needs to talk to Billy about when he’s leaving. To make arrangements to take him to the airport. “When should we leave Monday? When’s your flight?”

“I don’t have one.” Billy tells her. “It’s been postponed.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I have three more weeks, like I was supposed to.”

“Why?” Max asks surprised. “Not that I’m not happy but-”

“I don’t know.” Billy lies quickly. “I phoned them to check when the flight was and they said I can stay for the full six weeks.”

 Max stares at him unbelieving, then looks to Steve and asks him, “Is that true.”

“Yes, it is. I was there when he called. Form my room- he called from my room, so, yeah.” Steve lies for Billy in his usual awkwardness when it comes to lying.

“Fine.” Max says, agreeing to believe them, making Billy sigh inwardly in relief.

 Thank God she believed them. If she knew… Well, Billy’s not one hundred percent certain what she would do but she already has tried to convince him about a hundred times to go home. To visit their ‘parents’. If she knew he got injured again, fuck, she might even call them herself. Billy can’t let that happen. As far as they know he’s still in ‘nam, and as much as he can help it, it’s going to stay that way.

…

“Why did you lie to her?” Steve asks later that day as they head to bed.

“She might call my dad.” Billy says in a rare moments of complete honesty. “We don’t get along.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, why do you think?” Billy says slightly snarky as he crawls in the bed and proceeds to put a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed. Ever since the ‘incident’ as Steve calls it, Billy has been doing this. Making sure that Steve can’t touch him, can’t set him off, and so that Billy won’t hurt him. Steve doesn’t think it’s necessary but Billy would have slept on the floor if he didn’t agree, and he’s still recovering. More than ever now that he’s had a setback for Steve’s sake.

“Well-” Steve starts to answer but Billy cuts him off by saying, “Goodnight,” and turning away from him. Steve sighs but doesn’t persist, instead opting to lay down himself, turning off the lamp before he does.

…

“You feeling okay?” Steve asks the next morning as Billy walks back into the room, towel around his shoulders. “You didn’t get your stiches wet, did you?”

 Billy gives him an incredulous look. “No. I’m fine.” He then goes to sit down on the bed, holding the towel in his hands he wipes his hair, drying it as best as he can. “So what’s the plan for today? Max says we’re going out for pizza or something…?”

“Yeah, we all sort of get together and have lunch at the diner once a month if we can. It gets so busy with school that we don’t always get to hang out together at the same time.”

“Is that weird kid, Dustin going to be there?”

“Yeah.” Steve answers looking away sheepishly, but then to defend his friend adds, “And he’s not weird.”

“You’re all weird.” Is all Billy says in response making Steve unable to stop the smile that makes its way on his face.

…

“That was fun.” Billy says, his words dripping in sarcasm as they walk back into the dorm room. Both go to take off their jackets.

“Yeah.” Is all Steve says with a constipated expression on his face. The gloom from the darkening sky visible in the room making him look orse than he is, or so Billy hopes. They were going to have dinner but it turned into supper, a late one, and when Steve said ‘everyone’ was going to be there, he wasn’t joking. ‘Everyone’ meant _everyone_. Including the ex-roommate and ex-girlfriend. Wasn’t that fun. It was beyond awkward no matter the best attempts at the younger ones to make it less so. Even Erica bringing her girl didn’t deflect some of the attention from the Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan situation away. If anything it put on a spotlight on the uncomfortable couple of Nancy and Jonathan with Steve in the room, them being so much more comfortable, not really normal, but well as normal as any of the likes of them at this time.

“Look, I haven’t asked, but what the hell happened with them?” Billy asks genuinely curious.

 Steve sighs deeply, deeper than Billy’s ever seen him sigh before, and says, “Do you remember when I told you that Jonathan used to be my roommate?”

 Billy nods his head to show that he does.

“Yeah, well he was up until he slept with Nancy while we were having a fight.”

“You and Jonathan were having a fight?”

“What! No, me and Nancy.” Steve exclaims as he blushes furiously at Billy’s words, at the implication that him and Jonathan were- no, no. “Nancy and I were together. For almost two years, and Jonathan and I, we were best friends.”

 The information sits there in the room between them for a good twenty minutes, neither saying anything as both are far away lost in thought. Steve in his memories of the relationship with both people, one platonic and one romantic, but both as equally as important to him. His memories shifting to the fight, then Jonathan meekly trying to explain what happened with him and Nancy. Then Nancy cutting in and saying it straight. The ‘sorrys’ and the explaining that had felt something for one another for a while now, and Nancy saying that she’s sorry for the way it happened. That they should have broken up first. That was what really got to Steve, the fact that she didn’t want to be with him, that their relationship meant so little, and that she was ready to drop him like _that_. It still hurts to think about for Steve, but more so for the friends that he lost, and the loneliness that resulted from it all.

“Woah! Where are you going!?” Steve asks quickly as he gets up to block Billy from practically running out of the room. He has an angry scowl on his face, and his shoulders hunched up ready for a confrontation.

“Move.” He practically growls.

“No. Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“To punch his sad face in.”

“Who? Jonathan?” Steve asks, clearly surprised at his words. “Why?”

 Billy looks at him like he’s an idiot. “For what he did to you. In fact you should go punch his face in yourself.”

 Steve looks down sheepishly, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he admits quietly, “I did.”

“You did?” Billy asks in surprise, then seeing the honest expression on Steve’s face he smiles. “Well, well, look at you, flower, you got some fight in you yet.”

 Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

…

“What do you mean you called them, Maxine?” Billy asks, his blood, his body, and his whole being freezing in that one moment, that one instant when Max says, ‘I called our parents.’

“I called them.” Max repeats. “They would want to know that you’re back and you should visit them. Dad already says that he’ll send you the money for a bus ticket.”

 They’re in the cafeteria on a Thursday morning, Max, him, Steve, and Lucas, now officially Max’s boyfriend. They apparently went on a date late weekend and its official. Billy already took him aside and did his whole big brother talk. Lucas knows not to hurt her or he’ll have him to deal with, whether he’s home or back in ‘nam, he’ll make it happen. He wasn’t too harsh on him though, knowing that Max can handle herself but he got the message across regardless and in all honesty he is happy for his sister, if not slightly concerned. Okay, maybe he’s a lot concerned because Lucas is coloured and it’s 1969. They already get strange looks wherever they go with Lucas or his sister tagging along, but to be dating? That’s a whole other story. Billy will have to have a talk with Max too, about to keep it as quiet as possible. She won’t take him saying that well, but he doesn’t care, all Billy cares about is her being safe. Dating a coloured guy publically is the opposite of that.

“Why would you do that?” Billy asks angrily as he bangs his fist on the table. It makes everyone jump, and a few people around them look over in curiosity and concern. The only one not surprised by Billy’s anger is Max. She may have jumped for a second with the others at the fist banging on the table, but now her face is relaxed and she’s rolling her eyes.

“Billy, I know you don’t get along with dad well, but he cares about you and wants to see you. You only have to go for a week at the most.” Max explains to him. “It’s not the end of the world.”

 It may not seem like the end of the world to Max, but for Billy it’s pretty damn close.

…

 When Steve comes back to his room that night he finds Billy sitting on the edge of his bed. He’s sitting up straight but his eyes are staring off at the opposite wall, lost in something that Steve can’t see. Something that is only in Billy’s mind’s eye. It makes him look older, whatever it is, and far more serious than Steve would like, not to mention the obvious anxiousness he has as his hands curl into his- well, Steve’s jeans, clutching tightly at the material. The rest of him is as still as stone, like a statue, and Steve hates that.

“Hi.” Steve says gently as he walks over slowly and sits down beside Billy. He leaves a good amount of space between them, remembering Billy’s aversion to touch, not that it’s something he’s ever likely to forget after that night. “Are you alright?”

 It’s a dumb question, obviously he’s not ‘alright,’ but it’s all Steve can think of to say. Billy doesn’t seem to mind though as he smiles slightly at his words, appreciative of the concern and of Steve caring. Not just for him, but for everyone. He wouldn’t spend thousands of hours on those stupid protests if he didn’t. If it were anyone else asking he might just them to go to hell, but it’s Steve, and so he makes an effort by answering with, “Yeah.”

 Steve doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push it either because he knows Billy hates talking as much as touching. So he tries a different tactic. “Are you going home tomorrow then?”

“Yes. I have no choice.” The last part is more serious than what Billy was probably going for and it tells Steve more than Billy probably wants anyone to know.

“You don’t have to, you are an adult. Twenty, right?”

“He’s my father.” Billy tells Steve like it answers everything, but then his eyes light up, and it reminds Steve of Nancy when she would get an idea as she was trying to think of what to name her essay or project, or whatever she was doing for her various classes at the time.

“I know but-” Steve tries to say, but Billy cuts him off by standing up and walking towards the door, throwing the words, “I have to go,” behind him.

…

“Max! Max!” Steve yells through the door as he bangs on it aggressively, his concern mounting as the inactivity prolongs. “Max! Open the door!”

 A couple of young women open their own dorm room to look out into the hallway to see the commotion. Upon finding Steve Harrington banging on Max and Jane’s door their faces grow with concern. Everyone know that groups of friends, the weird and different all being put together over some mysterious deaths a year ago. They seemed to have figured out it was the physics professor and some kind of cult activity. Well, the cult activity is only a rumour, but still, it happened, the physics professor that is. He was arrested and everything.

“Steve.” The door opens to reveal, not the red headed girl Steve was looking for but the dark haired one known as Jane, her roommate.

“Jane.” Steve says breathlessly. “Where’s Max? Is she in there?”

 He looks behind her into the room to see if he can find her. The room is empty aside from Jane and the panic that has resided in Steve ever since he woke up that morning to find an empty bed and no sign of Billy at all, increases. It didn’t even look like he came back from when he walked out. Steve would have stayed awake but he was up all night the night before studying for an English test.

“She’s not here, Steve.” Jane tells him calmly. “She left early this morning to accompany Billy to the airport.”

“The airport?” Steve asks in surprise. “I thought Billy was taking a bus home.”

“He’s not going home.” Jane says this gently as her hand rests on his arm, knowing more than anyone else, even the two of them, about their relationship.

“Where would Billy be going th-” Steve stops midsentence as it all sinks in and starts to make sense. He doesn’t have to say it, Jane already knows, but he does anyway. “He’s going back to Vietnam.”

 Jane nods her head in confirmation of his words. “I’m sorry. He didn’t tell you goodbye?”

“No.” Steve answers with devastated eyes on the floor, lost in thought of the memories of the night before when he last saw Billy, maybe the last time he will ever see him. “He didn’t even tell me he was going.”


	2. Part II: Separate Worlds - Separate Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything that is crossed out has been redacted. It should be completely blacked out but I can't really do that on AO3.

May 30, 1969

Billy,

 Why did you leave without telling me? I was worried. Max is going to let me send this letter with hers but if you want to write back my address is on the back. I’m sorry if I did something to make you angry. Let me know how you’re doing, please.

  * Steve



 

Jun. 6/69

Steve,

 I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to wake you up, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I came into the room and you were sleeping after I made the call to the VA. They said that there was a flight first thing and when they said first thing in the military they mean, five. I would have told you if it wasn’t so rushed but I had to go. Maxine and I took a taxi to the airport and I was gone before it really sank in.

 I probably won’t hear from you for a few weeks but until then I’ll be waiting for your letter. It’s so God damn boring here, hearing from anyone is a reprieve and just communicating with Max can get annoying. All she wants to talk about is ‘Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.’ She did say something about you though, that you’ve not been going out when the others are. You should get out more though, flower, it would do you some good. You can’t stay hung up on Nancy forever. She was just a blip. Plenty of more girls in the sea, right? You’re lucky you know, out here all there are is the local girls who don’t speak a word of English and will only spend the night if you marry them.

 Anyway, I should go, headed out on a mission first light. Wish me luck.

  * Billy



 

June 19, 1969

Billy,

 I’m glad that you’re okay. I hate- it sucks that you have to go to war. You haven’t gotten any more injuries since you’ve been back there, have you? You’re stiches haven’t even come out yet, or maybe they have now. Let me know when you write back. I forgot to ask in the last letter and Max says you haven’t said anything about it.

 In other news I passed my midterms and the finals are almost here. English is hard but not as difficult as the ‘art’ of economics. I’ve been studying later and later but still haven’t got the trick of one of the basics, which isn’t good. I wish I could have just studied English and maybe Psychology, but alas here I am, what can I do? By the way, I do go out. I’ve just been busy lately with school. The other night I went out with Dustin and Will to play pool. Even though I came in last we had fun. Don’t worry. I only let them have the one beer.

 My birthday was last week, I guess I never told you when it was but I’m officially twenty one now and can go to any bar in town without getting kicked out on my ass. Also, I’m only one year younger than you, so you can stop with the teasing, okay?

  * Steve



 

Jul. 3/69

Steve,

 I’m sending this letter to Max because I know you’re out of school and into summer holidays. You never gave me your home address and I can only assume that’s where you. If she’s forwarded this correctly to you than your reading it. Of course I won’t know for sure until you have sent me a letter back.

 Onto more interesting topics, I’ve managed to trade enough cigarettes with the locals to get some hooch for me and the others in my battalion. We ended up drinking well in the night and on roll call Smith passed out in front of the commanding officer. I held in laughing as much as I could, the poor guy, he’s only eighteen and not very big. In the end com. gave him twenty one laps around the camp.

 As to your questions, I’m fine. The stiches are out and I’m healed. I have a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing out of the usual. How about you? Haven’t got into any more fights lately, have you, flower? If yes, I guess I should taught you how to dodge a blow and get a good right hook in. For me it’s a left but for a righty like yourself it shouldn’t be so hard. You didn’t punch Jonathan after all, didn’t you?

 How’s the summer vacation by the way? Planning any road trips? If I was you with my own car, that’s all I would do all summer.

  * Billy



 

 

 

July 17, 1969

Billy,

 Max sent the letter okay, and I’ve written my home address on the back of this one so you know where to send the next one. The sooner your letter gets here, the sooner I can write back. It takes so long to hear from you, if only you had a phone out there. Maybe one day in a ‘Metropolis’ future.

 As for the summer I’m interning at my father’s bank. His idea, defiantly not mine, but I’m also working at a mall when I’m free to try and earn some extra cash. I don’t have much free time otherwise a road trip sounds nice. Maybe next month I could plan something. It would be good to see the others again. They’ve been calling me and vice versa but it’s just the same as opposed to seeing them in person, you know?

 Don’t worry, I’ve been getting together with a local group and I’ve been continuing with work on protests and the like. Hopefully if enough of us participate Uncle Sam might listen. Then maybe you and everyone can finally come home. Realistically I know it won’t happen in a year but maybe two? More and more people start to turn their opinions with every new day. I haven’t given up hope.

 You shouldn’t either.

  * Steve



 

Jul. 29/69

Steve,

 The days are long and hot, I don’t have the patentee for these stupid drills. ~~We haven’t been in the field for days.~~ and it’s wearing on me. Not just me, all of us. I miss ice cream the most on these days. The kind with all of the flavours mixed together, strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla. Or even fresh coffee would do, even with the hot weather. Sometimes it takes a while to miss this stuff but with the heat it’s been quicker. I also miss beer, the beer we had at the bar before I left was especially good. When I get back we should go there again. I guess now that your legal, flower, you’ll want to go somewhere else.

 I hate to ask but there’s an old buddy of mine near where you live, his name is Max Rogers. He’s at the VA hosp. for some injuries. His girl’s been writing to me and I would have gone to seen him when I was there but the letter never got to me until I got back here. She says that he needs more visitors, or whatever, don’t feel like you have to though. If you do, get him a bottle of Jack Daniels, it’s his favourite. They don’t let you drink in those place even though it’s one of the few where you should no questions asked. His girl doesn’t like it though, she won’t smuggle it in for him. I would but, well I can’t. You’d be doing me a solid.

I’d owe you one.

  * Billy



 

August 22, 1969

Billy,

 First of all, I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written and I’m sorry. There’s two very good reasons for that though and I’ll explain them. For one I didn’t want to write back until I visited Max and could give you some news, which I did and can do. He’s doing alright. Angry at everyone and I admit I thought he was jive turkey when I was first me him but once I showed him the bottle you told me to bring he was more himself, or what I think is himself. I don’t know him like you do. I plan to visit him again next week and win back the money he took out of my hands in poker. You didn’t mention that he was going to rip me off like that. I’m starting to think that you both have setting me up.

 The second reason I haven’t been able to write sooner is because I’ve been ill. I’ve been getting wicked headaches that last days. I have an appointment with a doctor, an old college friend of my dad’s so I’ll get in sooner but it’s probably nothing. I’ll let you know what happens, probably when I write again.

 Other than that nothing much has been going on lately. I go to work with my dad (when I’m feeling alright) and work at the mall on my free days. My car did break down but I got it fixed although I think those guys at the shop were ripping me off. I also talked to Jonathan, and I know what you’re going to say but I never let him tell his side of the story and it’s been bugging me ever since. He said that it was a rushed thing and as soon as it was over he went to tell me. Which he did, and I’m still angry at him but I think I’m starting to let it go. I still don’t want to talk to Nancy yet though. I’m not sure if I ever really will want to again.

 Anyway, how’s the romance on your end? Any local women catching your eye?

  * Steve



 

Sept. 2/69

Steve,

 What happened with the doctor? Let me know as soon as possible and don’t go to work if you’re sick. Having two jobs is probably making it worse. Yous should quit one or both and worry about yourself. It’s probably migraines. My mom used to get them. Stay away from the light and keep yourself cold if you can. Heat makes it worse.

 Thanks for going to see Rogers. I’d go there myself if I could. Have you met his girl? He claims she’s a knock out but I could never tell in the blurry photo he carries everywhere with him. I wrote to her to tell her about you and that you might visit so if you see her she’ll know who you are.

 As for the Nancy and Jonathan situation, you’re better than them, Steve, don’t get sucked in. Sorry this is so short. We ~~haven’t had much time to rest.~~

  * Billy



 

September 19, 1969

Billy,

 The last part of your letter was redacted so I don’t know why you’ve been so busy but I can guess. It worries me, it worries Maxine too. She’s been calling me a lot after I told Dustin I’ve been writing to you. Telling one of them is like telling all of them. I didn’t think she would care as she knew I sent a letter with her to you but she does, and I think it helps to have someone to talk to. She says your parents aren’t really the talking type. It helps for me, too. We all worry about you. I know it’s not easy for there. Max- Rogers doesn’t talk about it when I visit him but he makes sure to ask if I’ve heard from you. I hope that you can come home soon and I think it might be sooner than you expect.

 There’s going to be a protest in the capital. In DC and hundreds of thousands are coming. It’s been- we’ve been planning it for weeks but I didn’t want to say anything until it was a sure thing. I’ll have to miss some classes but it will be worth it. If this can’t get through to Uncle Sam than I don’t know what will.

 Oh, right, I guess I didn’t tell you but I’m back at college, we all are. I told my dad to send any letters he got from you to me here, but I don’t think you’ll be writing back until you get this one. I’ve put my college address on the back of this letter in case you forgot. It’s my last year, actually, and Maxine and the other kids, second, but you probably already knew that. As for my headaches the doctor said that they are migraines. Probably from stress or something but I have medicine to help with it. So I’m fine.

 I’ll be waiting for your letter.

  * Steve



 

 

 

Oct. 4/69

Steve,

 I’ve heard talk on this end about this big protest. Turns out a lot of the other guy’s girlfriends are into the whole flower power thing. Some of them seem like flowers themselves but they’re not. They don’t always agree with this war but we’re all soldiers. We follow orders and assume that Uncle Sam knows what he’s doing. I never questioned it. Not since I met you. But I’m still a solider above everything else and I follow orders. Always have.

 I hope the protest goes okay, but be careful. There’s a lot out there who hate people like you. It could be dangerous. Make sure you don’t get into any more fights. You might not be so lucky next time and I can’t be there. Don’t go alone.

 As for Max, tell her I’m fine. It’s rough but I’ve survived worse. By the way, how are the migraines? Let me know if they get any worse.

  * B



 

October 16, 1969

Billy,

 Don’t worry, the protest, well we’re all going together on a bus. I was going to take my car but it will be better this way. We can plan more and talk about what we’re going to do. It won’t take place until next month so we have plenty of time to organize everything. We are taking precautions for keeping everyone safe and no one will be alone. I’d ask Dustin to come or maybe Mike but they’re not really into the whole protest scene. I could ask Jane but Hopper might kill me if I take her along.

 So the other guy’s girlfriends are flowers too? Some of them anyway. Does that make me your girlfriend as well? Relax. I’m only joking.

 My migraines are better. Sorry this is short but school is far more difficult in the final year than any other. I’ll write to you soon.

  * Steve



 

October 29, 1969

Billy,

 Maxine just got a letter from you and that usually means that one will come for me soon after but it hasn’t in fact it’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you. I’m guessing that the letter got lost on its way and sometimes that happens I’m told. Hopefully this one doesn’t either though. Write to me again. Maybe send a second copy just in case?

  * Steve



 

November 15, 1969

Billy,

 I’m writing this from my hotel room in DC. I made it, we all made and we did it. By the time you get this letter I’m sure that will have already heard about the protest, but whatever you’ve heard it doesn’t do it justice. I can tell you that much.

 Maxine got another letter from you. You didn’t mention me or the lost letter and I have yet to get one from you. I’m worried, but I know you’re fine otherwise you wouldn’t be writing to Max. Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. Please write to me again. This is kind of sad but your one of the closest friends I have right now. Dustin is a buddy but he’s more attached to Lucas, Will, and Mike than me.

 I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

  * Steve



 

November 30, 1969

Billy,

 I still haven’t heard from you. I guess I should take the hint but we got along so great when you were here. I really am sorry if I hurt you. Or if I did something to make you angry. It- I’m just sorry. I even accidently turned down a date because my head so up in the clouds. If you want me to stop writing, tell Max to tell me and I will.

  * Steve



 

Dec. 3/69

Steve,

 I haven’t written to you in weeks. I know. I didn’t know what to write. Not much happens out here and I didn’t want to bore you.

 It’s December and I keep thinking about Christmas. When I was younger my mom would always try to make the best Christmas that she could even though she was pretty sick and my father hated it. You wouldn’t think so, talking to Maxine Christmas is his favorite holiday. Maybe it is now, I don’t know, but when I was little it wasn’t. He hated it and she loved it, and I couldn’t decide what I thought.

 I don’t do feelings, Steve, and I don’t know what it means to love anyone. For some reason that’s been bugging me lately. I’ve never had a friend. Never thought I would. Especially one like you, a flower.

 Sorry for not writing.

  * Billy



 

December 15, 1969

Billy,

 I’ve been so worried about what was going on that you don’t need to apologize. You’re already forgiven. I’m just glad you’re not ignoring me anymore. I’m glad you’re writing to me again. I miss hearing from you. I never thought I’d have a friend like you either. But let’s stop talking like girls because I know that you hate that.

 In other news Maxine and Lucas are doing good. They’re really happy together and they’re not the only ones. Jane and Mike have started going steady which leaves Will and Dustin all alone. They keep- Well Dustin keeps complaining. Will on the other hand, he’s a good guy but he’s quiet. You met him before so you know what I mean. Jonathan worries about him but I think he’ll be okay.

 The time that you get this letter Christmas will probably already have passed, if not, Merry Christmas, and don’t worry the present I got Max says it’s from the both of us. I’m sure you’ll hear about it from her in her next letter. You’re welcome. And now you owe two… But there’s something I’ve been curious about, what do you all do for Christmas over there? Anything? Maybe a bottle of hooch? I’d get you a present but I doubt I’d be able to send it over there. Maybe next year.

  * Steve



 

Dec. 28/69

Steve,

 Maxine sent me an excited letter about the record player you got her and Jane. It’s a little much, don’t you think? But I’m really glad that you put my name on it because now I’m the best brother in the world. She’s more happy with me than ever and I think she’s forgiven me for going back to this place.

 Christmas here is a sad state. We don’t have much to do or celebrate. Everyone is missing their hunnys and their family. I don’t miss either. I do miss Maxine, wish I could be there for her and have Christmas with you. I’m assuming you went home though and saw your parents. You haven’t told me how Christmas is for you and yours.

 Although Christmas hasn’t been good here we’ve all decided to chip in for some local food and local drink for New Years. It’s better than nothing and even though the food is kind of strange and on shortage it’s not bad. Besides any liquor is good liquor over here.

  * B



 

January 11, 1970

Billy,

 Happy New Year! I should start off by saying that. We celebrated by going out for food and beer. It was just me and the Buyers. Everyone else went home for the holidays. Mrs. Buyers- Joyce and Hopper live here with their kids. You already know that, Will, Jonathan, and Jane. I know what you said about Jonathan but we’ve been getting along better. I see Nancy all the time since she’s fundamentally part of the group but we’re still not on the best of terms. I’m not giving in that easily. I still feel hurt by what happened.

 Anyway, I’m happy to hear that you are able to celebrate the holidays even if it isn’t as good as it could be. You don’t need to worry about Maxine though, I called her over the break and she’s doing really good. Your folks got her a new bag and some clothing. She’s over the moon about it. She’s doing pretty good. The others gave her a couple of records when she came back- well her and Jane. They said it was a delayed Christmas gift since most of them forgot about presents, too busy with their new game they’ve been playing.

 Classes have started again, a new semester and my last one. Jonathan’s too, but not Nancy’s. She’s decided to go to medical school. Well she was already thinking about it but has decided now. As for the rest of them this is only their second year but I’ll miss them when I leave. Hopefully I can come and visit them next year as often as possible but if interning this past summer with my dad has taught me anything about my future career (note the excitement) then it’s that there will be long hours.

 It’s 1970. A New Year and new beginning though, right? It seems the protest had an impact. Maybe this year you can finally come home.

  * Steve



Jan. 27/70

Steve,

 I wish I could come back to Maxine and be there with all of you but I can’t. Leave isn’t something that comes often and I’ve already had mine when I was injured. I’d rather be dead than injured severely so that I can never fight again. Looking at Rogers should help you to feel the same. I know he’d rather be dead. How is he doing by the way? Have you seen him lately? He’s finally started to write to me, periodically. His girl not so much. I’m taking that as a good thing but over here, cut off from most things and most people you can never be too sure.

 Maxine tells me that there’s this new girl that’s into you. Julia, right? She says you brush it off every time someone mentions her name and the heart eyes she has for you. If you ask me, you should go for it. Take her dancing. Girls like that sort of thing. Make sure to wear the black jacket. She won’t be able to keep her hands off of you if you do. If I was in your shoes I would get on that train before another guy comes along.

 How is the protesting going? I only ask because you seem very happy about the one last year and haven’t mentioned any new ones. You aren’t giving up on them now, are you? Write soon. I’ve been here almost a year and it’s tough. I’m fine but I miss being on US soil, you know? Letters help.

  * B



 

February 9, 1970

Billy,

 I’ve seen Rogers this past weekend and he seems like he’s doing well. In fact I would even argue that he’s grateful for being alive. Andrea, his girl as you call her is pregnant. Max (Rogers) seemed confused but once I talked it out with him he was really happy. I’m guessing he’s already written to you about it and you’ve gotten that letter before mine. He’s obviously planning to marry her and soon. There’s even talk of him leaving the hospital soon. He’s worried about supporting the kid but an old friend of his has a job waiting for him. He’s going to be fine. He’s happy.

 As for Julia, I’m not that interested in her. She’s already got her sights set on someone new anyways. I’m not going to get in the middle of that. I’ve had enough complicated relationships to last a life time. You know I even thought about marrying Nancy, having kids with her, and growing old. I know what you’ll say, that I’m a romantic or a dreamer or whatever but I believe in all that stuff. I know you don’t, but maybe one day someone, a girl will come along and change your mind.

 It has been almost a year. I didn’t even think of it like that. You being here last year, it seems like another world. Like Middle Earth or something. Sorry, Lord of the Rings reference, I’ve been spending too much time with Dustin, but I think you know what I mean. Is there anything that I can do? I could try to send a parcel but I’ve been told there’s a 50/50 chance of it getting to you safely and intact. It’s worth a chance though, right? I’ll send you some extra socks and some chocolate. If it doesn’t get to you in a month than I guess you probably will never get it. Sorry about that.

 I’ll be waiting for your next letter.

  * Steve



 

Feb. 28/70

Steve,

 I got your last letter a few days ago ~~and I would have written sooner but we were ambushed. Most of the men in my squadron are dead. I was lucky enough to get away with barely anything but a few scratches. I do have a pretty bad cut on my led but I’ll be fine. I’m laid up in the hosp. now with most of my men and I’m not sure when we’ll be getting out.~~ I don’t have much time, ~~I’m pretty exhausted~~ but I wanted to quickly write this so you’re not wondering what happened. I’ve written a similar short note to Maxine so she doesn’t worry either. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to write again.

  * B



 

March 11, 1970

Billy,

 I got your last letter but most of it has been redacted. I can guess what’s happened though and so can Maxine. We’re both concerned and Max is really worried. She even called your parents and talked to them for more than an hour. Apparently your father said some things and she’s been sulking in her room since. Jane says she’s just upset and that she’ll be fine soon enough but I’ve been trying to cheer her up. I bought them a new record and supper. She was a bit better after that. I think she’s more worried about you than anything, but I don’t want you to worry about her. Worry about yourself, Billy, I’ll take care of everything else.

 Onto happier topics because I doubt that all you want to hear is the other stuff. I’ve passed my mid-term exams and I did pretty well. I studied a lot so I was hoping to get good marks but it’s not until you actually see it that it becomes real. I went to the pictures to celebrate and watches this hilarious one with-

 Sorry about the cut off. I had to go. Some goons were getting a fight over a term paper. Yes, you heard that right. The bigger one surprisingly was the one to get the bloody nose. We managed to separate them and to not get big brother involved. Although they are roommates so hopefully they calm down before back to their room tonight. You’ve probably heard more exciting things/had them happen to you but this is about as exciting as it gets for college life. That and the parties that sometimes get out of hand but I don’t go to those anymore. They’re more trouble than they’re worth. I bet if you were here though that you would go to everyone and drag me along for at least one.

 In all seriousness though, I hope you’re doing alright. If you need to vent, write it to me. I don’t even have to say not to Maxine because I know you won’t. You won’t make her worry more than you can help. Don’t try to deny it. Underneath all that ‘stuff’ you’re a decent- a good brother to her.

  * Steve



 

Mar. 30/70

Steve,

 I’m sorry about the redactions. There’s nothing I can do. They’re worried about information being stolen and used against us. These ‘nam’s are very creative. Many injuries we get are from the traps they set. I still have the scar on my arm where I fell in one myself. Maybe you remember it.

 I’m doing better, still not that great but better than most. I’ll probably be back on my feet in a few days. They’re short of men which is how it’s always been but lately it’s been worse. Nobody enlists anymore. It’s just us out here. Uncle Sam may not have forgotten about us but it seems like everyone else has. On the worse days it’s like Uncle Sam has too though. I shouldn’t say that but it’s how a lot of us think after shit like this happens.

 Even though I barely graduated and hate school, I would rather be at college with you and your fruity friends. Let me tell you, flower, you got it easy.

  * B



 

April 12, 1970

Billy,

 I can’t possibly know how hard it is there for you, but I can assure you that no one has forgotten you. All of you over there. The protesters, the letters to congress it is having an impact. We’ll make it to freedom for all of you. You can’t give up. Like you told me that one time, if you give up you’re dead. Maxine, your parents, and me- we’re in your corner. We’re on your side and we’ll be here when you come home. You will come home, Billy, you will.

 I’m doing everything I can to bring you home.

  * Steve



 

Apr. 27/70

Steve,

 I get what you’re saying but there isn’t anything anyone can do. If Uncle Sam wants a war, than a war he will have. I won’t give up fighting. I’m not the type of person who. I will fight this war single handily if I have to, and win just as well so that I can get back. Besides, Maxine has already threatened the cutting off of certain parts of me if I don’t make it home. Which seems like an empty threat with her all the way over there and me all the way over here, but knowing her she’ll find a way.

 I’m back on duty and mostly healed. ~~It was a miracle that I did survive but that’s because I was being punished and was sent to the back to lag behind with two others. We three survived, the rest died on impact or were injured and died later. This part may get redacted but I have to tell someone. The other two were sent back to the States. It’s just me here now from that squadron. I’ve been assigned to a new one,~~ but it’s not the same, you know?

  * B



 

May 8, 1970

Billy,

 It’s good to know that Maxine is keeping you in line. She’s better at getting through to you than anyone else. You have a hard head. Has anyone ever told you that? Don’t worry I’m only teasing. I’d comment on the second half of your letter but almost all of it has been redacted, blacked out and I don’t know what you said other than that you’re most healed which I’m glad to hear about. I’ve heard rumours of putting soldiers on the front lines when they not well or when they are still injured. It’s put my mind at rest to hear that is not the case with you.

 I guess I should tell you about what’s going on here which is not much. Classes are over in a month which means it’s the final exams. These will determine whether we- I graduate or not. I’m nervous and my dad has called me twice already this month which is highly unusual to say the least. Maybe he’s worried. I can’t blame him I’ve never been very studious growing up. In fact it was Nancy who helped me to get myself together when it comes to school. I guess what she taught me stuck because I’ve studying ever since.

 Aside from classes we all went to a showing of ‘Metropolis’ at the drive-in outside of town. I’ve already seen it for an English class and so have Will and Jonathan but the others never did, and they were curious. Besides the drive-in with its big screen and popcorn is much different than a tiny classroom and old tape. Will and Jonathan saw it a few years back when they went to visit their dad but that was a while ago. We all agreed to it and it was good fun actually. I think you would have liked it too although maybe not because it is a silent film. No colour either. Lots of action though.

  * Steve



 

Ma. 26/70

Steve,

 The black outs are a pain I bet. There’s nothing I can do expect maybe write less about the goingons here. I will do that. It’s just no one here wants to relive the day before. We all just need to forget to go on. It’s easier to forget if you put it on paper. I’ll stop doing that though. It’s better if I don’t write about anything having to do with this war.

 Tell me about Metropolis. I could ask around here but you being an English prof. in the making I’m sure that you could give a better description. Did Maxine go too? Did she like it? So far she’s been writing a lot about Lucas and Jane. Some family drama here and there. Something about Jane’s father, her real father coming back? If that’s true and he is as awful as Maxine says I’m counting on you to keep him away. As weak as you are, flower, you are still a man. I can’t be there to do it myself so it falls to you. I know her adoptive father is a police officer and everything, but he doesn’t live with her. She’s lives at the college with Maxine. So keep any eye on them but watch your own back.

 I won’t talk about what’s going on here anymore but I will say this, I could kill for a cigarette right now.

  * B



 

June 14, 1970

Billy,

 Sorry this letter is so late. I haven’t gotten a break from last minute projects until now. I just finished all the work and am now on my way to studying. It’s been hectic here. Even your sister and the others are on edge. Even though they’re only on their second year of the ‘college experience’ the exams are more pronounced than last year for them. I don’t have as much free time in other words as I would like, none of us do but I’m guessing the time I write to you again college will finally be over and I will have graduated. I hope.

 As for the picture, Metropolis is a movie set in the future where only a select few live luxurious lives on the backs of working slaves. It’s a little like those horror stories that happened in the Second War, only this movie was made in 1927, nearly twenty years before the height of the Second War. I’d say more about it but I think that you should watch it for yourself to get the full effect. Maybe I can take you some time? Some time when we don’t have this or any war hanging over our heads.

 I have to go. Studying awaits.

  * Steve



 

Jun. 30/70

Steve,

 You’ll graduate. I know that you will. When I was there your desk was full of text books and study books. I’ve seen the way you study for a test and the mark that happens because of it. You’ll do fine. I’m sure that you already have. What are plans after though? Are you really going to go work with your dad in business? At his bank? I thought you hated it. You have a minor in English, you should do something with that if you’d rather. You have anything and everything ahead of you. You’re not tied down by duty and responsibility. You should go and do whatever you want.

 I’m sending this letter to your home address. I assume that’s where you are now. If not and this has been forwarded to another address, let me know. And I know this is short ~~but we’re low on supplies.~~

  * Billy



 

July 16, 1970

Billy,

 It’s okay if your letter is short. As long as I get a letter I know that you’re fine. Maxine too. If you can only write to one of us though, write to her. She’s your sister after all and I know this doesn’t have to be said but she worried a lot about you. She can always call me or vice versa so that I know that you’ve been heard from. As long we know you’re writing to one of us then there is no need to worry.

 In other news, I graduated! I have a degree and a job. I know you think I shouldn’t take the job my father has secured but I have to. At the very least to repay him back for college. It’s not cheap but you already knew that for Maxine. Maybe when I’m older or later on I can get a job to put my minor in English to good use. Right now though I’m good where I am. I don’t even start the job yet until next month. My dad’s proud of me and has given me time off until I have to start because of it. It was surprising but I’m using this time to go on that road trip. I wish you could come with, it would probably be more exciting but I’m going to see the other. I leave tomorrow but don’t worry I’ll be back in time for your letter, unless you only write one to Maxine which is alright too.

 Other than that there’s not much news on my end. I know that you said you won’t talk about what’s going on over there with you because of the black outs but if it helps you to write it out on paper, than write. If there’s anything I learned in college it was during my English classes and the lesson was ‘writing lets things go.’ I know you’re going to call me a flower for that but it’s true.

  * Steve



 

Aug. 7/70

Steve,

 It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to write to you. I guess it hasn’t been that long but long enough for me to have already written to Maxine once. There are reasons for it out of my control. I‘d write them down but they would just be blacked out anyway. I’m angry about it, but this is war.

 How is the job with your dad? You couldn’t pay me enough to work with mine. Has Maxine called you about the letter I sent to her? It wasn’t very long but it was the best I could do. I told her to call you because I can’t write to you both. She tells me that her summer vacation is going well and that you visited for a while and met her mom and my father. She said it went alright but Steve, you shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have gone there. Don’t go back there. Don’t.

 All the guys here are feeling the strain of this never ending war. It has to end but it’s been going since before many of them were born. I know that you and your other flowers are still protesting but maybe push it up a notch? ~~Either that or Uncle Sam needs to find us more enlistments. There’s just not enough of us it feels like sometimes.~~

 I’ll write again as soon as I can.

  * Billy



 

August 27, 1970

Billy,

 I didn’t visit Maxine long, your father was looking at me like I was some kind of criminal, but why don’t you want me to go back? Both he and Max’s mother seem nice enough. They even invited me to dinner despite the way they were looking at me. Both of your folks seem like good people, but if you really don’t want me to go back, not that I was planning to or even have the time, I won’t, but why? Is everything okay with them? With you? Maxine is safe there, right?

 As for the protests I’ve had to take some time off from them because of the new job which is very dull but the pay is good. I have long hours, just like my dad does but it’s worth it in the end if you want a family, a good life. At least that’s what my dad says, always has said but lately I have been questioning it. I’ve actually been thinking about San Francisco. I know you’ll laugh at me when you read that but it’s true. It seems like a dream land. It seems like a good place to be too.

  * Steve



 

Sep. 13/70

Steve,

 I think you should do whatever you want to do. If you want to go to San Francisco and be a flower 24/7 then do it. Find some job to put your minor in English to good use, a job that you like and live your life the way you want to. Your father is not someone you have to listen to. You should go if you want to go. Make sure you send me your new address when you do though.

 I haven’t had much contact with my father or Susan, Max’s mom, but they’re not that great with new people. Especially men who show up to visit their darling daughter. If you want to see Maxine visit her at college that way you can visit all of your flower friends. I’m sure that one kid Dustin hasn’t stopped calling you since you went back home. I don’t know how you stand him. He’s more annoying than Maxine is. And that’s saying a lot.

 There’s been talk here of a peace agreement between Uncle Sam and ‘nam. I don’t know how serious it is or even if it’s real. Do you know? It’s probably just the guys wishful thinking, but it could be true, couldn’t it?

  * B



 

 

September 28, 1970

Billy,

 I haven’t heard anything about a peace agreement but then again I haven’t been around the others so I wouldn’t know. I’ve mostly been keeping to myself and working those long hours I told you about. I know you said I should do whatever I want to do but it doesn’t seem right to just up and leave my father. He went through all the trouble to get me this job and to pay for my college. The least I can do is stick around for a while. Besides my mom has been away a lot on business, my dad doesn’t know how to cook so it’s good for me to be here. He doesn’t even know how to do laundry.

 I won’t visit Maxine anymore unless it’s at college. You’re right it makes more sense to visit everyone at once than to visit one at a time at home. The only ones I can’t visit at the college are Jonathan and Nancy. Not that I’m sure if I want to visit Nancy but Jonathan is my friend, sort of. He’s found a job as a photographer for some high class magazine close to the college of medicine where Nancy is. It’s a few hours longer away than the college where the others are at but I’ll probably go down and visit on holidays, if I ever get any, but probably only for a few days.

 Halloween is a month away but Dustin has been calling me a lot about it. He and the others are trying to figure out costumes for the annual Halloween party at the college. It gets kind of crazy and they weren’t allowed last year, (only third and fourth years are) so they’re pretty excited. Maxine has probably told you about it already but her and Jane are thinking of maybe doing some kind of joint costume? Or a partner kind of costume. They haven’t decided yet but she’s really excited about it and the party too so I’m guessing that you’ll get a few pages of a letter where she explains it. I’ll let you hear more about it from her than me. I mostly find the party a little lame now that I’ve graduated. Don’t tell the others I wrote that though.

  * Steve



 

Oct. 19/70

Steve,

 Maxine has sent me a letter about the party but it’s more like ten pages than a few. She says that they have decided to be some people from that movie Metropolis? I don’t understand most of what she’s wrote about it but I’m going to say that it’s an outstanding costume.  I’d ask you about whether it’s really as great as she says it is but you won’t be at the college to see it so there’s no use in asking. Maybe when you visit her you’ll take a look? She says she’s going to keep it for a while, her and Jane, so you’ll probably get a chance to see it yourself. Me not so much. It seems like I’ll be stuck her for a year longer.

 Is your job really that awful? You said you have long hours, how long? Don’t you get holidays? Everyone should get them. If not to do the tradition Christmas stuff than to at least get a break from the place. If I had the chance to have holidays I would go back to the college to see Maxine and then maybe visit you, but if you’re only working what’s the point in that? We do get a few days off ~~here but we have to stay here. We can’t leave. Not enough men for that, maybe in the earlier days of this war but not now.~~

 For Halloween we don’t do anything. It’s not considered a holiday holiday, but last year our com. brought us a chocolate bar. We each got a piece and damn was it good. I like chocolate but I like coffee a whole lot of a hell more. If I could ask for any treat this Halloween it would be that. Make sure you drink an extra cup for me. I take mine black though, none of that cream and sugar bs you put in.

  * Billy



 

November 5, 1970

Billy,

 I’ll drink an extra cup of coffee for you but there is no way that I’ll drink it black. That’s just not right. As for the treat I hope you get coffee too. I don’t know what I would do without it, especially with these long hours which by the way aren’t bad. It’s only 7 – 7, sometime 9 if it’s busy but usually not. It’s really not that awful, the hours are okay, the money is really good. The only downside is that it is so unbelievably boring. I’d rather be teaching Shakespeare or Chaucer. Now that is far out and worth it.

 I called Maxine the next day after Halloween but Jane answered. She was with Lucas. I know what you’re going to say but she’s an adult. She’s almost twenty one years old. She can make her own decisions. According to Jane though the party was a riot. Everyone loved it and had a great time. Their costume was the talk of the party. Everything went great and I’m sure you’ll hear all about it in Maxine’s next letter.

 I have to get back to work, the manager is staring at me, and yes I’m writing this instead of filling out forms, but writing to you is far more interesting.

  * Steve



 

Nov. 22/70

Steve,

 Maxine sent me a letter detailing most of the party. She left out some parts, probably the drinks and the men, mainly her and Lucas. I’m not going to get angry about that, if she wants to be with him, a coloured boy then she can do it. She just can’t tell my father or her mother. She can’t tell them he’s coloured. They’re older, from a different time. Not that I can really blame them. I don’t want her to be with him, her life is going to be so much harder and Lucas is pretty small. I’m not even sure if he can hold his own much less protect her from all the racists in the world, because there’s quite a bit. I used to think more like my father but once I got over here, well just say the man to your left and the man to your right, no matter the colour is usually the one thing between you and death.

 You’re job sounds awful no matter how much you try to dress it up, it’s awful. I’d lose my shit if I was in your position. I’d probably end up starting a fight from sheer boredom. I still don’t get why you put up with it. You shouldn’t by the way although I’ve already told you that. Aside from that, have you met any business gals? I hear that they’re a bit more frisky than the usual kind. More smart in a good way. If you have you better take one out. You need to get over Nancy somehow, right?

 We’ve been lucky enough here to be able to have some entertainment. An old movie projector has been donated to the base nearby and we’re able to go once a month to watch a picture. It keeps a lot of us from doing anything too stupid on our free time. What little we have of it. The only problem is our first movie is the passion. I’m shuddering at the thought of it. I hate religion. But then again, I’ve heard someone gets eaten in it.

  * Billy



 

December 6, 1970

Billy,

 I understand what you’re saying about Maxine and Lucas. You’re worried about your sister and repercussions dating a coloured man will have on her, not to mention your parent’s reactions, but love is love, right? You can’t really help who you love, it just happens. Studying English, you learn that love isn’t always perfect, doesn’t always happen in the perfect situations but it’s one of the most powerful and important things there are in this world. I loved Nancy and my whole world changed. Maybe you’ve never loved anyone yet but when you do, you’ll know what I’m trying to say. Social constructs mean nothing when you’re in love.

 I haven’t found anyone at work to take my interest. Most people who work there are men. There’s only a couple of woman and they’re much older than me. If I find someone that makes me feel even remotely similar to the way Nancy did, or even better, greater than how Nancy made me feel I’ll ask them out. I wouldn’t let them get away.

 I’m happy to hear that you’ve gotten a projector. It’s not good to leave men idle, but I’m sure you already know that, probably better than me. As for the picture, the Roman’s kill the Christians. It’s pretty brutal. I’m surprised they’d show that after what you must see every day, but it is technically a religious movie, I think? At the very least you’ll have something to love forward to.

  * Steve



 

Dec. 24/70

Steve,

 It’s Christmas Eve and the only day lately I’ve had free so I’m using the time to write letter to you and Maxine. You were probably wondering what has taken this letter so long, but I can’t explain it without running the risk of having all of this letter blacked out so I’ll say only that it was very important. I’m free now though and enjoying as much of Christmas as I possibly can. There’s not much here for the holiday, we’re not a bunch of girls so decorations aren’t something that happens here, but we do tell stories sometimes. If we’re drunk enough. Usually around this time the com. will get us a good bottle to share. This time is no different, but we’re waiting until later tonight, after we all have had a chance to send Christmas letters back home. Even though they won’t arrive there until much later.

 When I read your last letter I almost laughed. You wrote a whole half of a page on love, flower, but I guess I should have expected that from someone so into English. Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, all of that. You believe it all, don’t you? I never put much stock in love and feelings like you do. I never found words to be enough when you want to make a point. That’s why even though when sometimes I’m not sure about this war I still fight it’s because actions to me change things more than your flower power.

 So what did you get for Christmas? It’s not until tomorrow for me, but once you get this it will be mid-January so... Was it a good one? Did you have a good Christmas? You got time off from that job from hell, right? If not you shouldn’t go in anyways. Everyone deserves Christmas. Or so that’s what Maxine tells me anyway. She’s a little of a dreamer like you, but more realistic than you are. A harder head, less of a flower.

  * B



 

January 15, 1971

Billy,

 We don’t celebrate Christmas as much as we used to when I was younger. We still exchange gifts and have our customary hot chocolate firs thing in the morning but after that we’re left to ourselves. My dad was pretty busy with end of the year work and my mom had to leave in the afternoon for an emergency at one of her firms the next city over. I had the day off so I decided to read a little. I also played some solitaire but that was about it for me. I got calls though from the others telling me how great their Christmas’ were. They seemed really happy, Maxine too. You’ll hear all about it from her, but she got a bunch of stuff for Christmas. Don’t she didn’t forget about you though, neither did I. We sent over a package but you’ll have to tell me if you got it or not.

 I do really like Shakespeare and is it completely lame if I say that I do believe in all of that stuff? I think it’s pretty great. Mostly because it could happen to anyone. We all have stories and tragedies, what makes them famous though, is the obstacles lovers have to go through to be together. It shows that love is resilient, strong, and durable. I’ll stop writing about it though, I know you don’t believe it all of that stuff.

 Anyway, how was your Christmas? What kind of stories do you tell each other? War stories? Or stories from home?

  * Steve



 

Jan. 31/71

Steve,

 I got yours and Maxine’s package. I’m surprised it made it over here. The chocolate is all broken up and the coffee is as hard as a rock but I don’t care. None of us over here do. It’s fresh stuff and that’s all that matters. I really like the socks too, mine are getting old. I have more holes than socks left. Thank you for the card too, but I’m afraid it might get lost or worse. You can never be too careful which is why I brewed the coffee right away and we all had some. What we have we will share. I’d get you a gift back but it’s kind of impossible right now but maybe one day I will be able to.

 How are things going with your job? Bored enough to quit yet?

  * B



 

February 19, 1971

Billy,

 I haven’t gotten bored enough to quit yet, no, but I’m glad to hear that you liked the package. I’m also relieved that you got it. I didn’t want to tell you, I kind of wanted to surprise you but I’ve sent a few packages before. You never mentioned them so I assumed you never got them. I wonder why you did this time. Maybe it was some kind of Christmas miracle? Either way I’m happy to hear that it happened.

 The job is okay. It’s boring as usually but it’s become a little unbearable because of my dad. He’s been talking to me more lately which would be alright if he wasn’t hinting at me getting a girlfriend. He’s been pushing it on me a lot lately, saying things like ‘you’re almost twenty two’ and it’s time to ‘grow up.’ In other words he wants me to get a wife and settle down like he did at my age, but things are different now than what they were in 195- whatever. Not everyone wants to get married so young anymore. It’s 1971.

 Moving to San Francisco as far away as possible sounds more and more appealing every day.

  * Steve



 

Mar. 17/71

Steve,

 If you want to move to San Francisco you should. Settling down and getting a wife is so boring and frankly having a woman nagging in your ear 24/7, who would want that? You’re the one who keeps talking about love and how it’s the most important thing ever. Why marry for a life than love? You said love is what it’s all about, so go to San Francisco and find it. Do whatever the hell you want. Who cares what your father says. I don’t. You shouldn’t either. Is there something holding you back? Maybe you’ve already found someone there and that’s why you don’t want to leave. You should just bring them with you if that’s what it is holding you back. If love is above everything than it should all work.

 Sorry to make this short, but we’ve been busy. That’s all I can say, but I’ll write again as soon as I can.

  * Billy



April 19, 1971

Billy,

 You’re right. This letter has taken me a long time to write because I’ve been afraid. We live in a hard world. Not unlike Shakespeare’s time where people weren’t allowed to love who they wanted from fear of what others would say.

 We’ve been writing to each other for almost two years and we’ve only seen each other for a few weeks but I don’t think I’m alone when I say that it was the best few weeks of my life. I miss you all the time. I want to be around you more than anything. I would do anything for you, especially if it includes bringing you back home.

 What I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t want a wife, I want you.

  * Steve



**WESTERN UNION**

TELEGRAM

MR & MRS NEIL HARGROVE

 

 THE SECRETARY OF THE ARMY HAS ASKED ME TO EXPRESSS HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON PRIVATE FIRST CLASS WILLIAM HARGROVE DIED IN VIETNAM ON APRIL 21 1971. HE WAS ON PERIMETER DEFENSE WHEN ENGAGED HOSTILE FORCES IN FIREFIGHT. PLEASE ACCEPT MY DEEPEST SYMPATHY. THIS CONFIRMS PERSONAL NOTIFICATION MADE BY A REPRESENTATIVE OF THE SECRETARY OF THE ARMY =

ALEXANDER A ALLEN MAJOR GENERAL USA F56 THE ADJUTANT GENERAL

29 1971”

MAY 7 929B


	3. Part III: Nancy - The Girl Wonder

 The year is 1971 and it’s a beautiful spring day on the 2 of May in Indiana when Steve gets the news. He had a pretty good day at work, a relaxed easy day as it warmed up dramatically compared to how chilly it’s been lately. The sun was full and bright, and when he drove home his jacket was in the back of his car, forgotten about. He talked to the girl on the fifth floor who invited him out with her boyfriend. He finally found a real friend. Not one of the mindless drones that fill the office and he was excited. He couldn’t wait to write to Billy to tell him that is if he was still writing to him after his confession. Steve was pretty confident that he would, friend or more in this day and age everything was changing.

“Steve, a Maxine called for you.” His mother greets him as he walks into the house. She’s back from her latest trip for a couple of days and it’s a welcome sight even though she spends most of her time in her office. Steve was happy to have her home and people can say whatever they want but he likes living at home. Not so much having to see his father all the time but to be able to his mom when she’s home. He doesn’t get to see enough of her but even if with that both of his parents have been talking to him about getting his own place. His own life. His own _wife_. The other two don’t sound so bad lately, especially since he’s learned some new things about himself, things he can’t ever let them know.

“She did?” Steve asks as he walks into the kitchen to find his mom pouring a cup of coffee. So it’s going to be one of those nights where she’ll be up late doing accountant work, sleeping in late tomorrow then off on the road before he gets back from work again. Still, it’s good to have her here, his father goes a bit lighter on him with her here.

“It sounded urgent.” His mother replies barely looking up at him before walking past, coffee cup in one hand and a file in the other.

“Thanks.” Steve tells her as she walks past him and down the hall into her office. They’re exchanges are usually like this so much so that it doesn’t bother Steve anymore that she hasn’t asked how he’s doing or paid any more attention. It’s not so strange any more to him, well it never really was, not until he want to Tommy’s house and saw his mom. After that it was strange but now it’s just- it’s his normal. He doesn’t pay it much heed as he walks over to the phone and picks it up.

“Hello?” A woman asks after only one ring.

“Hi… Mrs. Hargrove? Your daughter called me earlier but I was at work, do you think I could speak to her?” Steve says a little awkwardly, not used to talking to Max’s parents. After Billy’s warning he’s tried to have as little contact as possible, not wanting to piss Billy off or make things worse between him and his parents. It’s obvious that they have a strained relationship. Max apparently is the glue that holds them all together though it seems, in Steve’s own opinion from what he’s witnessed with the Hargrove’s.

“Steve?” It’s Max. Suddenly she’s there and it sounds like she’s upset. It’s only then that Steve lets the bad thoughts enter his mind. The thoughts of horrible injury, of Rogers, and of death. His fingers unconsciously grip the phone tighter while simultaneously pulling it away from his ear slightly, subconsciously trying to distance himself from what Maxine is about to tell him. Tell him about Billy.

“It’s me.” Steve asks, his voice far less chipper than it was a few moments ago. “What’s wrong, Max?”

“It’s Billy.”

 It’s all she has to say for the dam to break.

…

 Steve didn’t want to go to the funeral, and not only because they were burying an empty casket, but because he didn’t want to see Maxine and everyone else. He didn’t want to see their grief and he didn’t want to share in it. All he wants to do is go back to bed, pull the covers up and over his head and close his eyes. He wants to picture Billy’s features, his eyes, his hands, and his body against his. He wants to experience and remember Billy alone. He wants to grieve in private. He doesn’t want to share his grief. Nobody knew Billy like he did, even if it wasn’t for very long he saw something he’s sure nobody else did, but Maxine is his sister, and she’s breaking. She needs him and he- He has to do this for Billy. So he goes.

“Thanks for coming.” Max says with an attempt at a smile but it doesn’t go over to well. Steve shakes his head in response as Max’s hand tightens in Lucas’. Her parents- well her father looks at the pair with a look of disgust but he doesn’t say anything. Not here and not yet. It’s the small miracles, Steve supposes. “These are my parents, my mom and Billy’s dad, Neil.”

“Hello, sir, ma’am.” Steve greets with his hand out to shake. Neil takes it and damn does he have a grip. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 Steve wants to say more, to offer up some comforting words about how great of a son they had, or something, but nothing comes out. He tries to say Billy’s name but he can’t. He tries to say anything else and his throat closes up in sorrow, in grief. He can’t do it. He just can’t.

“Thank you.” Neil says in a monotone voice. Steve nods as his hand is let go of. He makes his way down the aisle and to the pews, picking a seat as far from everyone as he can. He notices Nancy and Jonathan at the back and decides that’s better than being the loser all by himself.

“Hey, Steve.” Nancy says kindly. She didn’t know Billy, not really, but she’s here for Mike who’s here for his friends. Greif really pulls everyone together, doesn’t it?

“Hi.” Steve says with a curt nod as he sits by Jonathan.

“How are you holding up?” Nancy asks and Steve stiffens. Thankfully the priest is standing up front and begins speaking. The service is starting and Steve doesn’t have to answer. It’s the small miracles, right?

…

“Here, Steve.” Max says gently as she hands a framed picture of her, Billy, and their parents. They’re in front of a modern looking house in a nice neighborhood. The parents smile and so does Maxine, but Billy’s lips are upturned into some more akin to a grimace than a smile. Nobody else in the picture seems much unperturbed by this. In fact Billy’s father has his hand on Billy’s shoulder, it looks gentle but Steve can see the indents of the pressure. It makes his stomach turn as he thinks about how Billy said him and his father never got along. How he would ever hurt Max. He never said them, he said Max.

“What is this?” Steve asks with slight disgust as he looks up to Max. Lucas’ arm is around her securely and it’s obvious she has been crying. They’re outside the chapel, the service having been over and most going out to the graveyard. Steve can’t face not, especially not when it’s an empty coffin being buried so he found a quiet place where he could clear his head before trying to drive back home. It’s a few hours’ drive and it’s almost dark. He doesn’t want to do that drive when he his head is full of, full of everything.

“It’s- It’s our family photo. It’s the only one we have of- of him. I- I have one for myself but I thought… Jane said… Anyway, we should go. Are you coming?”

“No.” Steve’s voice is sharp and harsh.

“Hey.” Lucas says, his stomach turning at Steve’s tone. “Don’t take it out on her. She’s been through enough.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Steve throws his hand in the air, picture and all. His eyes become watery, but the anger is stronger than the sadness of it all. “It’s her fault.”

 Max takes a step back as her own eyes become tearful, but she has a strong backbone, always has and is speaking before Lucas can even get angry on her behalf. “It’s not my fault! It’s this war! And maybe I didn’t believe what you did but I do now. It’s- it’s a war without an end. All it is death and-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Maxine.” Steve says with a shake of his head. “You sent him back there. He would have never- I could have stopped him if I had more time. If we- if we had more time.”

“He was called back. I didn’t do anything.”

“You threatened him! You told his father what was going on! You forced him into a choice. Go home or go to war! And you know what Max? He chose war. What does that tell you?”

 Max takes a step back like she’s been slapped. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know.”

“That’s enough!” Lucas says loudly, stepping in-between them both. “This is a funeral.”

“It’s a farce. Just like this photo.” Steve says in disgust as he holds up the picture frame. “And I want no part of it anymore.”

 He wants to slam the photograph on the ground and walk away angrily, but it’s not just a photo, it’s a memory in print. It’s not a good one, but it is one and it’s more than Steve has of Billy. More than he’ll ever get on his own again. So he takes it with him as he makes his way to his car. He makes a point of not looking back.

…

“So who have we got here?” Nancy asks with a smile as she takes the chart from the soldier. His hands are gripping the wheel chair the patient sits in and he pushes him along as Nancy guides him to the administration to sign him in.

“Mackenzie, Allen.” The soldier says in a firm tone.

“Allen.” Nancy says, testing the name on her tongue as she checks and signs off on the book of admittance. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Allen, I’m Nancy.”

 The man, Allen, tilts his head, the bandages covering most of his face scratch against his chin. They’re slightly discoloured, needing to be changed as soon as possible is Nancy’s first thought but she can sense something else. She can see something that she almost recognizes but it’s gone before she can figure it out. That flash of recognition is gone and the man, Allen is speaking.

“I’m not Allen.” He says.

“Then who are you?”

“I don’t know.”

…

“Amnesia, is it?” The Doctor says as he takes Allen’s chart. Nancy is in the processes of changing his bandages when the doctor comes in to check on his newest patient.

“That’s what they tell me, doc.” The man says. “I don’t- it’s all confusing to me.”

“And you don’t remember anything?”

“Not really, but I’m pretty sure my name is not Allen.”

“Your dog tags tell a different story, son, and those are never wrong.”

“Whatever.” The man says. “When can I get these bandages off and use my eyes again?”

“Did they not tell you?” The doctor asks with concern as Nancy looks to him with big eyes.

“Tell me what?”

…

“Hey.” Nancy says softly as she leans in and kisses Jonathan. She’s surprised to see him here but not overlay so. He did say the job may only take a day but knowing him he would want to take longer, not this time it seems though.

“Hello.” Jonathan says with a loving smile as she pulls away. They’re in their one bedroom apartment in a smaller nicer neighborhood of the big city and both are clearly exhausted from the day.

“How was the job?” Nancy asks with genuine interest as she half lays on the couch, Jonathan joining beside her.

“It was- it was good. Animals, you know. Zoo animals but it was good. How about you? How was the hospital? I’m still mad that they made you a voluntary nurse.”

“Well I am volunteering, but I know what you mean. I’m also studying to be a Doctor. It doesn’t matter to me that much anyway. Really, as long as I can learn I’m happy with it… And it was good, I mean there’s this new patient who’s testing my nerves but other than that it’s good.”

“New patient?”

“Allen Mackenzie. A bomb I think, I don’t know the specifics, don’t really want to, but he lost his sight and his face. It’s pretty scarred. I can’t really blame him for being so-”

“Harsh?” Jonathan fills in.

“I was going to say annoying but that works.” She laughs slightly. “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic because it’s awful and it sucks, but I’ve seen guys who’ve lost most of their limbs. Who can’t even speak and some don’t even remember the last five minutes. All things considering he’s not that bad off.”

 Jonathan nods understandingly.

“I guess- he doesn’t remember who he is, I guess that is something awful too. According to our records he doesn’t have any family. His sister died in a car accident a month ago and- I don’t know. Some of these guys have girls back home but all of his stuff is lost and he doesn’t remember. I wish I knew if there was someone. Someone I could call, you know?”

“I know. You’re so kind.” Jonathan says, making Nancy smile, before leaning in.

“Ah, crap.” Nancy says pulling away. “I have an essay due. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll make dinner?”

…

“Good morning, Allen.” Nancy says with a smile as she walks into his and Dan’s room. Dan has been comatose for eight months. It’s not looking good for him. “And you too, Dan.”

“He’s asleep, permanently. I don’t think you need to say that every time.” Allen says with his usual quip.

“There’s been studies actually, about patients in comas and what they can hear.” Nancy explains as she walks over to the window and pulls the curtains opens.

 Allen hears the noise and laughs. “I can’t see and the other guy is half dead. You really don’t need to waste your time opening windows or being here.”

“Half dead, which means he’s half alive. And you, you’re talking so I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re alive too.”

“Ha, ha. You’re a comedian.”

“I try. And I brought you something.” Nancy says with another smile as she swings the bag she’s holding onto the table in the room.

“Great.” Allen says with sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Here.” Nancy says with an amused grin as she hands the clump of grey material to Allen. She places it in his hands and he snickers.

“What? Tired of my words, thought a little shit would make me freak? Sorry to disappoint of I’ve gone through much worse over there.”

“No, it’s clay, you can model it and make- Wait, ‘over there’? Do you remember something?” Nancy says with excitement.

“Stop with the zip. I don’t who I am. I just- I get flashes.”

“This is good, Allen, it’s really good. Have you told the doctor?”

 Allen laughs. “Sure. He doesn’t care, Nancy, no one cares about us.”

…

“Have you heard from Steve?” Jonathan asks as he looks to Nancy who’s currently studying for a Chemistry test. These words make Nancy stop, put her book down, and give Jonathan her full attention.

“He wouldn’t call me.” She says. “You know that. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I was talking to Will earlier and he says that he and Max are having some kind of fight? It’s really rocking their group, and not in the good way.”

 Nancy sighs. “You know how I feel about Steve, how we both feel and we decided that-”

“I know, but- I’m worried about him. I didn’t think he knew Max’s brother that well but apparently they were writing to each other.”

“They were?” Nancy asks as her heart falls, a distant memory of a conversation about sexuality and its movement spring to mind. “Shit.”

“What? What is it?”

“Maybe I should call him.”

…

“What’s this?” Steve asks with a furrow of his eyebrows as Laura hands him small envelope. He’s just leaving her house and her small party. He didn’t want to come but Dustin sort of pushed him to it over the phone and he is glad he came. It was fun and got his mind off of things. Laura and her friends are pretty far out there, but in a good way.

“A little party favour.” She says with a wink.

“Laura, I don’t-”

“Come on Steve, this stuff is city. If you don’t want it, give it back tomorrow. Otherwise, have fun. You could use it.”

 Steve opens his mouth to argue but she’s already shit the front door with a wink and back inside her house. Steve looks down at small white envelope and debates whether he should just throw it on the ground now and walk away or if he should keep it. He looks from the drugs up into the house where the party is still going and sighs. In the end he simply slips it into his pocket and makes his way to his car.

…

“Holyyy, crap.” Steve says as the sky caves into him. The colour purple is no longer purple but a different colour all together. A new colour, a colour with now name. The floor, the floor is sinking, there’s water swimming through the cracks. What the hell is that ringing? Oh, it’s the ear thing. Steve walks over, swims over and picks it up. “’Ello?”

“Steve?” A voice asks over the line and Steve pauses. He knows that voice.

“Fairy Godmother?”

“What? Steve, its Nancy. I just called because, well because I-”

“Shh, the walls are singing.” Steve tells her as his finger presses against his lips. “It’s singing a lullaby.”

“Steve? Steve, are you- are you on Lucy?”

 Steve laughs. “Maybe. Nancy, there’s this new colour, I don’t know what to call it.”

“Steve, oh my God, look take a cold shower, okay? And then- get some sleep.”

“I can’t. The walls are singing.”

“Why- why on earth did you take Lucy?” Nancy asks in alarm.

“I didn’t- I needed to see it, Nance, I need to see the universe that Billy is trapped in. I needed to see it, but he’s not here.” Steve says sadly.

“Steve, Billy is dead. You have to accept that and move on.”

 Steve’s eyes fill with tears, but then just as suddenly as they are there, they’re gone. “I have to go. They could be listening.”

“Steve wait-” Nancy tries to say but the dial tone is already ringing in her ear. “Shit.”

…

_“I always thought laying down under the stars was something you flowers did for the pretty things to look up while your brain is full of jelly.” Billy comments as he stays a drag of his smoke._

_Steve laughs. “I guess some do but it’s pretty far out, right? Besides I don’t do any Lucy.”_

_“Really? I thought you had to be a jelly brain to be putting up those signs twenty four seven.”_

_Steve turns his head to give him a glare but he’s laying with his arms folded under his head and his eyes straight up into the sky. He doesn’t even acknowledge the stare, making Steve roll his eyes and go back to looking at the stars himself. There’s a long pause of silence between them as Billy smokes. His first one finishes too quickly and he’s already got a new one lighted time Steve looks over again and says, “I want you to come home.”_

_“I don’t have a home.” Billy replies, his eyes still firmly on the stars._

_“What about Max?”_

_Billy’s hand stills, his cigarette not quite at his mouth. He swallows down and emotions and takes a puff. “She’ll be fine. She’s got, what’s his name, Lucas? Lucas.”_

_“Then…” Steve starts, stopping before getting the courage to finish. “What about me?”_

_“Oh, flower, you are better off without me in your life. You know that.”_

_“I’m not.” Steve protests with a shake of his head as he sits up quickly on the striped blue blanket. “You’re- you’re my friend. I need you.”_

_“You’ve got plenty of friends, flower.”_

_“Not like you.”_

_Billy smiles around the cigarette. “It’s almost out. It’s my last one.”_

_“I’ll buy more.” Steve offers which makes Billy chuckle._

_“I wish you could Steve, I really wish you could.”_

…

“Steve. Steve! Wake up!”

 Steve sits up with a start and looks around panicked. The striped blue blanket burns in his mind as does the distinct fresh smell of burning cigarettes. He looks around the room for any evidence of it, of that night but finds nothing but a frantic Jonathan looking down at him. His hands are nervously at his side and his face is screwed up in concern and nerves. He looks from Steve’s face to the mess that is his bedroom with clear questions in his eyes.

“Steve, man, what happened?”

“Acid.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story.” Steve says as his hand comes up to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Wait, what are you doing here? What time is it? What day actually?”

“It’s the twenty seventh of May, Steve, and Nancy called you three days ago. Do you remember that?”

“Uh, I think so, yeah, why?”

“Three days Steve. You didn’t answer any more calls. We were worried. Nancy would have come but between school and the VA…” Jonathan explains as he trails off.

“Right, look I’m fine. All groovy, so you can go.”

“No way. You looks worse than Maxine.”

“You’ve seen her?” Steve says as his eyes look up in bewilderment.

 Jonathan nods awkwardly, if one can even nod awkwardly that is. “How about you have a shower and I’ll make you some grub?”

“I don’t need you babysitting, Jonathan, and tell Nancy she can go to hell.”

 Jonathan looks like he wants to slap Steve and Steve kind of wants him to. Maybe then reality would feel like reality again. Maybe he it would wake him up, because right now he feels incredibly groggy and everything is so- plastic? Fuck. Where’s Billy? He was right here. No, shit, he’s dead.

“Fine.” Steve relents, at the very least it will get him away from someone he once considered a good friend and give him time to think proper. “I’ll have a shower.”

…

“How is he? Is he alright?” Nancy asks over the line to Jonathan.

“I- I think so. He’s having a shower. I made him eggs.” Jonathan replies.

“I love your eggs.” Nancy says with a smile. “I wish you were here. It’s our first day off together in weeks.”

“I know, but Steve…”

“I know, I just, I wish he could find himself someone. Maybe that would help. Maybe you could ask Will or maybe you know a girl that would be good for him?”

“Yeah, maybe…” Is Jonathan’s vague reply as he hears the water turn off. “I gotta go, Nance, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

…

“Steve, we’re trying to help.” Jonathan tells him honestly as Steve stares at the eggs like it’s some sort of devil worship. “Is everything alright? You used to always eat my eggs?”

 Before Jonathan started dating Nancy he would have only simply asked if everything’s alright, but now that they’re dating he’s more confident. He’s more a man than he was before, which sounds harsh but they were both kind of soft, different from the other assholes and meatheads around. They were kind of freaks of their own, not just flowers and Steve misses the comradery that occurred because of it. He really does. He misses his best friend.

“Uh, no. Just- eggs, they come from chickens. They should have been chickens, you know?”

 Jonathan looks at him like he has no idea what he’s talking about but humours him anyway and nods saying, “Yeah, right.”

“Jonny boy, listen, I get it. You and Nance are worried but we’re not really friends anymore and I’m fine.” Steve says with slight force as his eyes turn onto Jonathan’s whose are turning sadder by every word Steve lets out.

“You’re still my friend.”

“Yeah, well I’m not yours.”

 It’s a low blow but it’s enough for Jonathan to throw his own fork on his plate and storm out of Steve’s house, tears welling up in his eyes. Steve listens as the front door slams open then shut. He listens as Jonathan’s car is started up and backs out of his driveway, then off his property, well his parents property, but whatever. He’s gone. Jonathan’s gone and that’s all that matters, right?

“Eggs.” Steve says out loud as he stares at them. Yep, no, not today. Not today. Maybe some toast.

…

“Steve! Steve!” Nancy hears that familiar name as she writes down some information on the paperwork of their new patient, a Ted Williams, lost his arm. He’s doing well though, he’s got his wife and three kids visiting every day. He should be out of here before they know it. He’s one of the few lucky ones, if you can call losing your arm lucky.

“Aren’t you going to go check on him?” One of the interns says with a raise of his eyebrows.

“The patient calling out? For Steve? Probably one of his buddies he lost.”

“Oh, I thought…” Nancy trails off, she swore that was her mind playing games on her. She’s over tired from exams and volunteering, everything is a little out of sorts.

 The intern shakes his head. “Come on, I know it’s probably time for the rag but you still got a job to do.”

 Nancy so much wants to slap this guy but she can’t, she’ll lose everything if she does so she simply smiles and nods like a good little porcelain doll as she makes her way to the room. Besides it’s her turn for lunch tomorrow and Dr. Know it all will get a special lunch for sure. He can count on it.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Nancy says softly and kindly as she walks into the room. She searches for the lamp and switches it on. The comatose patient is silent as the one, Allen she knows, thrashes in his sleep.

“Steve. Steve.” He says and Nancy can’t help but freeze in her tracks. She knows that voice. She’s heard it say that exact name once before. But it can’t be. It’s impossible. “Steve!”

“Billy?”

…

 It takes everything that she’s got to get Steve here. She should, practically call Maxine or her parents first, but every time Nancy picked up the phone to do so, there was a pull in her gut. A feeling of dread and she was quick to hang up after that. She can’t put that family through any more pain. This guy, Allen as he has been identified as still doesn’t remember anything. When she questioned him about the name he was calling out he was very confused. He really could be Allen Mackenzie, or he could be Billy Hargrove. The only way to tell for sure was to have someone who knew one well enough to identify him. Allen has no one that they know of and Billy- well Maxine is a friend. Nancy can’t do that to her, not if she’s not sure. So she has to ask someone else and the only one else who knew Billy- who lived with the guy, who talked to him for almost two years is Steve.

 If she’s wrong about this Steve will hate her forever. He’ll never talk to her again. In fact he may try to kill her. It’s not something he would do, but taking acid is also something the Steve she knows would never do and yet…

“I’m here, okay? So just- take me to this guy so that I can tell you for sure that Billy’s dead.” Steve says with clenched teeth, trying his best to hold it together.

“Okay. Okay, he’s in here.” Nancy says as she opens the door. It’s morning and the sun shines in as Nancy always opens the windows each morning, whether they can see it or are awake to notice it, they can still feel it, smell it. She’s sure of that.

“What now, Nance? I’m busy trying to count this guy’s breathing. There’s not much else I can do.”

“Fuck me.” Steve says and Nancy doesn’t know if that’s a good ‘fuck me’ or a bad ‘fuck me’.

“Who’s there?” The guy asks as Steve walks closer with curious steps. “I’m- My name’s- I’m Steve.”

“Steve?” The guy asks in confusion. “Sorry but I don’t…”

 He doesn’t get to finish as Steve has already made his way over to the man and has places hand on his side. The guy flinches but doesn’t stop Steve who pulls his shirt up quickly, but still gently. There are fresh wounds and old scars. Steve runs his hand along an older one on his side, then to a smaller one on his neck.

“I…” Steve says, unable to form a coherent sentence, then suddenly as he was dumb struck it’s gone. “I’m sorry, you’re not- you’re not. I’m going to go.”

 Steve turns and starts to rush out. He’s not the guy. He’s not Billy. This was stupid and what the hell was Nancy thinking? What the hell was he thinking? Some false hope? Some fairy tale ending? This is real life. This is war.

“Flower?”

 But then again, sometimes good endings are possible and do happen. Sometimes not everything is a dream.

 Steve turns, the guy has bandages all across his face, but his body, his being screams out.

“Billy?”

 Steve walks over with careful steps, his hand outstretched landing gently in the man’s familiar soft tendrils of hair. The man, Billy raises his hand to touch Steve’s, to encase him with his warmth. He squeezes and Steve almost cries. It’s tender and loving, his hand on his, and Steve can’t believe he almost forgot the feeling.

“Is that really you?”

“I don’t know, flower, is that really you?”

 Steve’s lips upturn into a smile and Billy is soon doing the same, it’s sad and nothing at all like the first time they saw each in 1969, but it’s a smile and it’s them. Together. It’s real. It’s not a dream.

 And maybe San Francisco isn’t a dream either.

 


End file.
